Healing The Sheikh's Heart. Annie O'Neil
Kaisha interjected shyly. “Amira’s English is pretty good and we have been practicing some British Sign Language. She seems to enjoy it.”
“You’ve not told me this!” Idris knew it wasn’t something to be angry about—but why would they keep this from him? A small twinge of concern that his own serious demeanor might be the reason teased at his conscience. Then he dismissed it. He was who he was. A father who put his daughter above everything.
“It was a surprise. For Dr. Kelly.” Kaisha jumbled the words together, then launched herself into some fastidious note-taking to avoid any reaction Idris might have.
“That’s excellent!” Robyn gave a fingertip pitter-patter clap.
“British Sign Language is closer to French—so if she takes that up as well, it sounds as though she’s got some solid grounding in the wonderful world of the polyglot!”
Kaisha beamed with pride.
“Hold on!” Idris unsuccessfully tried to rein in the women’s enthusiasm. “What has all of this got to do with the operation to restore her hearing?”
“Everything,” Robyn replied solidly.
“And why is that?” Idris asked, now feeling sorely tested.
“Because there is always the chance it might not work.”
A thick silence settled between them as he took on board what none of the other surgeons dared suggest. Failure. It was a courageous thing to admit.
“I thought you were one of the best.”
“I am,” Robyn replied without so much as a blink of an eye. “But Amira’s case is a tricky one and the treatment I’m proposing has never been done in exactly this way. Not to mention, I’ve never done it in tandem with gene therapy.”
“Gene therapy?” Idris’s hackles went straight up. It sounded invasive. Dangerously so.
“Don’t worry...don’t worry.” Robyn waved away his concerns as if they were minor. “This is really exciting stuff. During my time in Boston Pediatrics—”
“I thought you were based at Paddington’s.”
Was nothing as it seemed with this woman?
“I am,” she confirmed patiently, then gave a self-effacing laugh. “Unlike most of the human race I like to take my ‘holidays’ at other hospitals. See what my fellow comrades in the Ear, Nose and Throat world are up to.”
“So...you work on holiday.” It came out as a statement.
“I never feel like I’m at work,” she replied, looking shocked he could think otherwise. “I love what I do. So, really, I’m living the dream!”
Idris saw something just then—the tiniest of winces as she spoke of her “perfect life.”
That she was passionate about medicine he had no doubt. But there was something missing, something personal. Which was what she seemed to be making this whole affair by the constant reminders that Amira wasn’t available for “inspection.”
He gave a dissatisfied grunt at the thought, smoothing away an invisible crease on his trousers.
Work and play might be one and the same for Robyn, but he had yet to get a handle on what it was she was actually going to do for his daughter apart from test her emotional elasticity. What was she expecting? A picket fence lifestyle for a girl who had lost her mother at birth and would one day rule a nation, all the while coping with profound deafness?
If she could handle that with the grace and charm she exhibited on a daily basis, Amira would certainly be able to handle...
Ah...
Idris put two and two together, suddenly seeing the sense behind everything Robyn—Dr. Kelly—was saying. One devastating loss was big enough. Something she would have to live with forever. The second? Her dream of being able to hear the voices of the people she would one day serve as leader?
He glanced at his watch, wondering how long it would take to bring Amira back from the zoo. Then again, he still hadn’t heard Robyn’s surgical plans. He was hardly going to give her hope before he’d heard Dr. Sunshine’s proposal.
“Okay, Idris—Your Highness. This is the part for focusing.” Robyn’s entire body looked as though it were ready to spring from the sofa as she spoke. “I am particularly excited about the different components of this surgery. I think Amira—when I eventually meet her—will be pretty interested to learn she’ll be one of the first children to receive a 3-D printout of not one but two inner ear bones. The stapes or stirrup, and the incus—or anvil as it is commonly known. I’m guessing you’re relatively au fait with this terminology, right?” She didn’t pause for an answer, just a quick glance in his direction as she pushed a couple of maps of an ear in his direction highlighting the work she proposed to do. Then, from her seemingly bottomless pit of a satchel, she pulled out a large model of an ear.
“This was more for Amira’s sake, but as she’s not here, you’ll do.”
“How very kind,” Idris answered dryly. Whether or not Robyn took any notice of his tone was beyond him as she was utterly engrossed in taking apart the pieces of the gigantic model to reveal a beautiful side view of the intricately constructed organ.
“As she was born prematurely, it looks as though a couple of Amira’s middle ear bones had some trouble developing completely, leading to the conductive hearing loss and—for whatever reason, it could be her diet, could be all the other factors a preemie has to go through—her body hasn’t quite caught up with the development she should have gone through by this point. It’s also apparent that the sensory hairs in her ear were damaged at some point. It could have been in the gestational period, but I think it is more likely it was during the labor. Sometimes the use of medicines that are beneficial to the mother can affect the baby—”
“Stop there. I’ve heard enough.”
Idris clenched his teeth, feeling the telltale twitch in his jaw as he did. No one had so much as dared to suggest Amira’s hearing loss had been caused by the medical treatment his wife had received. He’d never hold his wife’s fight for survival accountable for his daughter’s condition. At first he’d thought it had been punishment for being too happy. A beautiful wife, a nation who adored the pair of them, a child on the way... The lightning strikes of how cruel life could actually be had been blunt and unforgiving.
Robyn leaned forward and reached out a hand, taking one of Idris’s in her own. His instinct was to yank his hand away. It had been years since he’d known the comforting touch of a woman. Years since he’d thought such a thing would ever be possible after he’d lost his beloved wife. If Robyn noticed, nothing in her expression betrayed the fact.
“This is a big step,” she began, the warmth of her fingers beginning to mesh with his own. “For you and your daughter. I would rather call the entire thing off if you feel it’s too iffy. There is always the option of cochlear implants or bone conducting hearing aids. They do offer excellent opportunities for many hearing-impaired children, but given the damage to Amira’s sensory hairs, I believe they’ll offer minimal aid in your daughter’s case. If you like I can show you the details for the other surgeries.”
“No need.” Idris extracted his hand from hers and stood, suddenly impatient to get things under way. His own fears, his need to control the situation, would have to be controlled. For Amira’s sake. Putting all of his faith in a surgeon for his daughter’s well-being terrified him, but something about Robyn told him she would do everything in her power to do what she could for Amira.
“We will do the surgery, as you prescribed, but on one condition.”
“Oh! I...uh...” She threw a look over each shoulder as if expecting the condition to appear from behind the sofa.
Idris bit back a smile. She was clearly a doctor, through and through. A negotiator? Not so much. Children seemed