Seduced by the Sheikh Surgeon

by Carol Marinelli

  Normally he would have seen her home, but tonight he could not leave the department and he could not string her along so she had gone home in a taxi.

  Now, as the day staff started to trickle in, Zahir made coffee.

  And he took one in to Adele.

  She was finally asleep, not that anyone took such a thing into consideration in the observation ward!

  ‘Adele.’

  He watched as she woke up and opened both eyes, and he was pleased to see that her eye had not closed over.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he enquired.

  ‘A bit sorry for myself,’ she admitted. ‘And I’m sorry if I was rude to you last night.’

  ‘I get it.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ She sat up and saw that he was placing a mug of coffee on her locker.

  ‘Ooh, I really am getting the royal treatment this morning,’ she said, and then smiled at her own joke and Zahir found that he did too.

  ‘I’ve discharged you,’ he said. ‘Roger comes on at seven and I shall bring him up to speed with all that happened last night and then I shall drive you home.’

  ‘I don’t want you to drive me home, Zahir,’ she said.

  She didn’t.

  All she needed was to get away from him, from the torture of being crazy about someone. He had been horrible to her, rude to her, and while she understood that he might not fancy her she loathed the sudden false niceness.

  ‘I’m going to call a friend to come and get me,’ Adele said.

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Zahir refuted. ‘We need to talk.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘We shall discuss things in the car.’

  He made no secret that he was taking her home. In fact, when Phillip asked Adele how she was getting home, Zahir responded that he would take her himself.

  And, really, no one gave it a thought.

  Janet had offered her a lift and so had Helene and a couple of other staff too.

  Of course her colleagues were concerned.

  The mood was sombre and assaults on staff were not good for morale.

  ‘Here.’ Janet had fetched Adele’s clothes from her locker and brought her a towel and the little overnight pack that Gladys and Phillip would be getting too.

  It contained a tiny bar of soap, a minute tube of toothpaste, a toothbrush and a little plastic comb.

  Adele freshened up and pulled on the tube skirt and top she had worn yesterday and slipped on shoes.

  Zahir was waiting for her at the desk and speaking with Janet.

  ‘I’m on my holidays!’ Adele smiled. ‘Do you think I’ll pull?’ And it made Janet laugh as she stood there with a huge black eye.

  ‘Have a wonderful break, Adele,’ Janet said, as Adele walked out in the clothes she had arrived in, trying not to be just a little more disillusioned with the world.

  ‘Send us a postcard...’

  They walked out and Adele winced at the bright morning sunlight.

  ‘You’re not very good at parking your car,’ Adele commented, because it was over the line and at an angle.

  He did not tell her the reason—that on hearing she had been injured he had hit the accelerator and when he had arrived he had practically run in to see how she was.

  Instead, he held open the door for her.

  Adele got in and a moment later he joined her.

  ‘We meet again,’ she said.

  As he drove past the bus stop Zahir thought of all the times he had driven on, pretending not to have noticed her there.

  And so did Adele.

  She didn’t understand why he briefly turned and smiled.

  She didn’t smile back.

  ‘Are you sulking?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, I’m sulking.’

  ‘Are you warm enough?’ he asked, because he had the air conditioner on up high.

  ‘You can stop being nice now,’ she said. ‘I’m not your patient any more.’

  ‘No, you’re not. Adele, I have spoken with my mother. If you are still interested, she would love you to be her private nurse.’

  ‘I don’t need you feeling sorry for me, Zahir.’

  ‘I spoke to her last night, before the incident.’

  He had.

  Zahir had thought long and hard about it.

  He had been avoiding Adele for twelve months now and it had got him precisely nowhere.

  He wasn’t used to avoiding anything, yet his feelings for Adele could challenge a lifetime of thinking and centuries of tradition.

  Wasn’t he asking his father to do the same?

  It was time to face things.

  ‘On Monday she will fly home to Mamlakat Almas. A car would collect you at six in the morning and you would meet her at the airport...and you would return to England on a commercial flight two weeks later.’

  Adele frowned.

  ‘You don’t have to worry about a uniform or what to wear, everything will be provided.’

  She turned and looked at him and for the first time since last night she properly smiled. ‘What does that even mean?’

  ‘Just bring what you feel you want to. We are very used to having guests in the palace and accommodating them.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘And if you are worried about something, there will be someone who can advise you. It really will be relaxing and you need that. Especially after last night.’

  Excitement started to ooze in, like jam squeezing out a sandwich as you took a bite, but Adele did what she could to rein it in for now as the car pulled up at her flat.

  ‘I will do some studying up on hysterectomies...’

  ‘Adele.’ Zahir smiled. And in her direction too! ‘It’s a holiday. My mother will just need a little encouragement to walk, especially on the plane, and some reassurance, but we both know a private nurse is a touch unnecessary. She is, though, a queen. The second week would be yours to completely enjoy.’

  ‘I want to see the desert,’ Adele admitted.

  ‘I’m sure it will be arranged.’

  There was such energy between them, he knew that she felt it and how confused she must be by his cool treatment of her.

  ‘You should go in,’ he said, as still they sat outside her flat. ‘Get some rest. You didn’t sleep much last night.’

  ‘I had Gladys singing and Phillip snoring.’

  He said nothing, he was too deep in thought.

  It was Adele who broke the silence.

  ‘Thank you, Zahir. I know you didn’t want me there but I really will take care of her.’

  ‘I know you will. You will love my country. It really is magical.’

  ‘I don’t believe in magic,’ Adele said. She had stopped believing in magic and miracles a very long time ago.

  She had prayed so hard for her mother’s recovery, and had later downgraded that plea to just the tiniest sign that her mother knew she was near.

  Zahir looked at her bruise. ‘You need to ice your eye.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘And use some arnica cream.’

  ‘Okay.’

  For a second there she felt as if he was going to examine it again but though he raised his hand, he changed his mind.

  And then, in that moment, she felt his resistance.

  He hadn’t been about to examine her.

  Experience counted for nothing in this equation, for Adele had none, but she was quite sure then that she had been about to be kissed.

  Maybe it was the knock to her head that was causing irrational thoughts.

  Lack of sleep.

  Too much want.

  She needed to go, she knew, because she wanted to reach over and kiss him, and if she was reading things wrong she would never
get over the shame.

  She opened the car door and then, as she started to get out, she realised that she still had her seat belt on.

  There could be no dignified exit, though, when there was a pulse beating between your legs.

  She went to undo her belt.

  He went to do the same.

  For a year he had relied on self-control.

  It was dissolving.

  Zahir looked into the blue eyes he had wanted to explore since the very first day he had seen her.

  She just stared back at him.

  And then she remembered Bella, all beautiful and no doubt waiting in his home.

  ‘How was the theatre?’ she asked in a voice that was oddly high.

  ‘Terrible,’ Zahir said, though he knew what she meant. ‘Bella and I broke up last night.’

  ‘Because?’ Adele asked.

  ‘Because of this.’

  Do what is essential, he had heard in the desert.

  He had interpreted that as avoiding her, that it was essential to resist her. Now, though, it was essential that they kiss.

  For Adele, after such a horrible night, came the sweetest, most unexpected reward.

  The feel of his lips on hers.

  He kissed her softly and was careful of her sore face.

  And as she moaned to the bliss, he slipped in his tongue and she tasted perfection. She discovered all that had been missing and why a kiss had never worked till now.

  It had needed to be his.

  There was silence in her mind and the sensual soothing of his tongue. Her hand went to the back of his head, and she felt that silk hair on her fingers.

  There was utter relief as he kissed her, soon replaced by the yearning for more.

  He kissed her deeper and his hand slid from her waist to the stomach he had touched last night.

  And now there was tenderness as his hand slipped into her T-shirt and her skin was traced by him.

  She knew then the hell he had gone through.

  Trying to be friendly and to treat her as a patient.

  And she knew now the reason for his seeming disdain.

  His hand came up to her small breast and he stroked it through her bra and all this within a kiss.

  ‘Does that explain things better?’ he asked, as he moved his mouth a fraction away.

  It did.

  ‘Do you understand now why I didn’t stop the car the other night?’

  His hand was still on her breast and the ache between them could not be soothed by his soft caress.

  ‘You should have,’ she said.

  ‘I would not have been tender then.’

  ‘That would have been fine,’ she said, and now she got the reward of his smile.

  And always he was honest and upfront and explained to women that it could never come to anything.

  It would possibly be fairer to say that now.

  Yet he could not.

  He removed his hand from her breast but hers was still on the back of his head and possibly it would require surgery to remove it, for she wanted to feel his lips again.

  ‘Adele, this would be very much frowned upon back home.’

  ‘I’m not going to tell your mum,’ she teased, but now Zahir did not smile.

  ‘I am returning home with the Queen.’

  She swallowed and now she removed her hand and sat there and stared out of the window rather than at him. ‘Because you don’t trust me?’

  ‘No,’ Zahir said. ‘I was always going to return with her. Do you see why I didn’t want you there?’

  She did.

  ‘Why did you change your mind?’ she asked.

  ‘Because otherwise it would have been goodbye.’

  She didn’t understand.

  ‘Go in,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t want to.’

  ‘Go in,’ he said again. ‘I will see you on Monday.’

  ‘And?’

  He didn’t know.

  All Zahir knew was...they had been awoken.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘READY FOR THE OFF?’ Annie, her favourite nurse at the care home, asked on the night before Adele flew to Mamlakat Almas.

  ‘I am!’

  ‘You’re eye’s looking a lot better.’

  Adele had been icing it regularly and using the arnica cream that Zahir had suggested. The spectacular purple bruise had now faded to pale yellow.

  Sometimes she felt as if she had dreamt their kiss.

  As if her mind, tired of nothing happening, had manufactured it.

  Yet she knew it had been real and though the last few days had been busy she had dwelt on it regularly.

  Hourly.

  Maybe every five minutes or so!

  Even though Zahir had said everything would be provided, she had spent a small fortune on underwear, nightdresses, dressing gowns and slippers in case she had to go the Queen at night.

  It was very hard dressing for mother and son, Adele had thought as she’d closed her case on her hopefully subtly sexy lingerie.

  But then she also knew there would be no furtive kisses or hot sensual Arabian nights.

  She would be working and Zahir had told her anything more would be very much frowned on at his home.

  And, from the little she knew, things were different there and her lovely new underwear had no hope of being seen.

  Still, it was better to be safe than sorry!

  ‘It will just be for two weeks,’ she told her mum as she kissed her goodbye.

  Yet it was about more than a two-week break. Adele knew that by taking this step she was if not cutting the cord then loosening it a touch.

  Annie did too.

  ‘You know we’ll take good care of her.’

  ‘I know that you will and I’ll call every day.’

  As she left the nursing home Adele felt different.

  Of course she would be back and she would always visit but this was a huge step in reclaiming her life.

  It was very hard to get to sleep and it felt that as soon as she did her alarm went off.

  The car duly arrived and Adele was only too happy to close the door on the flatmates from hell.

  She had bought some linen trousers and a long-sleeved top for the journey and then regretted it as her trousers had already crumpled while waiting for the car to arrive.

  The driver made small talk as he drove her to Heathrow, but they took a different entrance from the main one. Soon she was in a very plush room and there was Leila but there was no sign of Zahir.

  Leila had the pale, sickly pallor of someone who had spent time in hospital and indoors but apart from that she seemed well. ‘I am so pleased to see you, Adele.’ She beamed. ‘This is Hannah, one of the nurses who has been taking care of me at the hotel.’

  There was a detailed handover.

  Leila had seen Mr Oman for a post-operative check-up the day before and Adele was told that he was very pleased with her progress.

  ‘This is his phone number,’ Hannah said, as she went through the file. ‘You are to ring him if there are any concerns. Here is a course of antibiotics for Queen Leila, if he feels it necessary for her to take them. However, Mr Oman also said that he has full faith that the healers can care for her from this point on. He has written a letter for them. They can also contact him with any concerns that they might have.’

  Hannah said goodbye and Adele looked out at the royal jet, scarcely able to believe that soon they would be boarding.

  ‘I am so excited to be going home,’ Leila said. ‘Zahir and Dakan should be here soon.’

  And here they were.

  Always, always, he looked immaculate.

  Just not toda
y.

  His suit looked a bit rumpled, as if he had slept in it, and he really needed to shave.

  Oh, she hoped he didn’t!

  Adele hadn’t seen or heard from Zahir since they had kissed, and she tried to remember how she used to greet him before...

  That’s right, she’d smile and he’d ignore her!

  It had worked for twelve months and it worked now, for Adele smiled and Zahir duly ignored her.

  It was Dakan who returned her smile.

  In fact, he came over. ‘My mother’s ever so pleased that you’re going home with her. I brought some antibiotics just in case they were required...’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Adele said. ‘Mr Oman has already taken care of that.’

  ‘These are for you,’ Dakan said, ‘in case you need them. Are you allergic to anything?’

  ‘No but—’

  ‘Adele, believe me, you don’t want to get ill there. I’m sure Zahir has got some with him but he may well be busy or away. Have these with you just in case.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  A flight steward came out to greet Leila and Dakan went over to his mother and they embraced.

  Leila’s eyes filled with tears and, though they spoke in Arabic, it was clear to Adele that Leila found it hard to say goodbye and that she wanted both of her sons home.

  It was time to board and Leila did so without fuss, though she needed a little help with the steep stairs.

  Adele felt dizzy with anticipation as she boarded the royal jet and Leila greeted the captain, co-pilot and the rest of the crew.

  They greeted her so formally—even Hannah had called her Queen Leila—that Adele realised the great privilege it had been to talk to Leila so informally.

  The Queen and Zahir sat in a lounge area and Adele did what she could to make Leila comfortable. She gave her a little cushion to put over her incision and helped her to strap in for take-off.

  ‘Are you wearing your anti-embolism stockings?’

  ‘I am.’ Leila nodded, and lifted the bottom of her robe to show that she was.

  ‘Good,’ Adele said.

  Adele was guided a little further back to a gorgeous leather seat that was set apart from the lounge, but she would be able to watch the Queen and would hear her if she called. She was told that her room was further down at the rear of the plane and she could sleep there later.