The Nanny and the Sheikh

by Barbara McMahon

  Melissa climbed out of the limo and headed for the water. Her shoes were not at all suitable for the sand, so she kicked them off. Her stockings would undoubtedly be sandy when she put the shoes back on, but she’d deal with that later.

  The sugar-white sand was soft and warm. She found the going easier when she reached the damp hard-packed sand near the water’s edge. The deep blue of the Persian Gulf stretched before her. She drank in the clean air, relishing the slight salty tang. Turning, she studied the outline of the resort. The main building would be three stories tall, with a high roof. She could see the men at the far end where the restaurant must be situated. Palm trees fluttered in the breeze. It was an ideal setting.

  Looking left and right, she was amazed there weren’t scores of families enjoying the beach. But as far as she could see in either direction, it was pristine and empty.

  She’d love to go swimming, but that was totally out of the question. At least for today. Would she get time off while they were here? She needed to remember she’d come to work, not vacation. But the water was so tempting.

  Glancing around, she saw Max and Surim heading for the car. Reluctantly, she returned as well, dusting off her feet as best she could before donning her shoes.

  “Enjoying yourself?” Surim asked when they reached the limousine.

  She met his glance as she slipped her feet into her shoes. Did she detect a hint of amusement? “It’s fantastic. But I’m puzzled why the beach is so empty. I’d think hordes of people would enjoy a day here.”

  “That is my hope as well, once the resort is completed. In the meantime, construction holds certain danger, so I have closed the area for the duration of building,” Surim said.

  “I see.” All that lovely empty beach. She sighed. There went her idea for swimming.

  They resumed their places in the limo and in only a short time they turned into a long driveway flanked on either side by tall palms. Melissa looked with interest at Surim’s estate. She had no idea of what kind of place a sheikh might own. Somehow she’d thought maybe a lavish tent like in Arabian Nights.

  The edifice surprised her. Max hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said it was large enough for a battalion—it was huge. Whitewashed walls with terra-cotta trim reflected the bright sunshine. High arches of windows, outlined by ornate fretwork and mosaics inlaid in bright colours, provided symmetry on the front. A wide veranda seemed to encircle the entire three-story structure. Quite simply, it was stunning.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, now taking in the colorful flowers that grew in profusion right to the edge of the veranda. Gently waving palm trees encircled the house, while a lush lawn stretched out in all directions. Her gaze was drawn to an elegant fountain in the front, providing a focal point to the circular drive. The watery spray made dozens of sparkling rainbows. She sighed wistfully. What a magnificent place to live.

  “Are you near the Gulf?” she asked, not seeing any signs of the sea, but still smelling that slightly salty tang in the air even in the car.

  “There is a path from the back of the house that leads to a private beach. It is not far, only a short walk,” Surim said. “Perhaps you’d care to go for a swim sometime during your visit.”

  She smiled at him. “Yes, I would. It’s freezing in London right now.” Would he join her if she went swimming? She looked away, afraid he’d see the hope in her eyes.

  As she followed her host into the house a moment later, through large acacia wood double doors carved into intricate designs and polished to a gleaming shine, she wondered why Max had brought her since Surim spoke French fluently. To have an impartial person on his side? Not that she could imagine the sheikh being the slightest bit dishonorable. Of course he was probably too busy to translate mere construction documents.

  Or, as her mother had suggested, maybe the trip was a treat for the work she had already done. It didn’t matter; she was thrilled to be here.

  The interior of the house was cool, though not apparently due to artificial means. Windows were wide open allowing a balmy breeze to flow through. The tall ceilings allowed the air to circulate freely.

  Rich colorful furnishings filled the room to the left. She followed the men and stood in the doorway, her sandy stockings starting to annoy her. How soon could she escape to her room and change?

  “You must be tired from the journey,” Surim said. “I’ll have my housekeeper show you to your room. Dinner will be at eight.”

  “Thank you,” Melissa said, glancing at Max to make sure her departure would be all right with him. There wouldn’t be any work today, would there? Surely if he and the sheikh were such old friends they had lots to catch up on.

  “Good idea. That’ll give you and me time to look over the plans. I’ve noted some changes I want in the kitchen area,” Max said.

  So much for catching up on their personal lives. Was work the only thing these men cared about?

  Melissa pulled back the cool sheets from the high bed. It was after eleven and she was tired. Slipping beneath the light covers, she lay back on the mattress, her head still swimming from the conversation at dinner. It had only been the three of them in the ornate dining room that could have seated fifty-four easily. The primary topic of conversation had been the new restaurant and resort.

  She would have preferred an alfresco meal on the veranda, with more talk about Qu’ Arim to enable her to learn more about the country. Maybe with another guest or two to round out the numbers. It was apparent the sheikh liked things formal. It was a good thing she was only here a week; the protocol would drive her crazy.

  After dinner, she’d excused herself to wander in the gardens. They’d been illuminated with subdued lighting. She’d walked down one path and then another, exploring little nooks and thoroughly enjoying herself. It was such a change from wintery London.

  Melissa began settling on the pillow, her eyes closing as she reviewed what she needed to remember for the morning. They would eat at seven and head for Surim’s offices where she and Max would meet with the contractor. Then they would—

  A sudden shriek startled her. She sat up. What had that been?

  Listening intently, she heard another shriek and then a child crying.

  The sheikh wasn’t married, at least not that she knew. But that was definitely a child. She got up and found her robe, pulling it on as she hurried to her door.

  Opening it, she could clearly hear the wailing. It came from the third floor.

  Her heart hurt to hear a child cry so wretchedly. She ran lightly down the hall to the stairs she had seen earlier and quickly gained the third floor. Rushing to an open doorway, the light spilling into the hall, Melissa halted at the scene before her.

  Surim had shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. His hands were on his hips and he glared at three young children huddled on a sofa. An older woman stood near a door on the opposite wall, wringing her hands. The oldest child looked to be seven or eight, a toddler leaned against her. It was the little boy, about four or five, who was crying so hard.

  Without a thought, Melissa stormed into the room.

  “What is going on?” she asked. Moving past Surim, she gathered the little boy in her arms, brushing back his hair and hugging him as she sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s the matter, little man?” she asked in her most soothing tone.

  The other two children looked at her with startled surprise, then glanced nervously at Surim.

  Melissa turned, the little boy in her arms, and glared at the sheikh.

  “These children should have been in bed long ago; it’s after eleven,” she said in her firmest nanny tone.

  “That is what I have been telling them,” Surim said, his own voice showing his frustration. “Their nurse has been unable to control them. When Hamid awoke with a nightmare, he woke the others. Now they won’t return to bed. If they don’t behave, I’ll have to find new accommodations for them.”

  “That’s the coldest thing I ever heard a fathe
r say!” she exclaimed.

  “I’m not their father,” he returned.

  The little boy rested his head on Melissa’s shoulder, quieting. She hugged him again and looked at the other two. They looked tired, scared and wary.

  “Well, whose children are they and why were they left with you?” Melissa asked. The woman moaned slightly and lowered her gaze.

  Surim lowered his hands and took a step closer, anger evident in his eyes.

  “My household is not your concern. You are merely a guest. Here because Max requested it.”

  “Children are my concern, however, and if you can’t take proper care of these children, I shall report you,” she replied hotly. The foolishness of the comment struck her. Surim was the leader of the entire country. To whom would she report him?

  Surim narrowed his eyes, anger threatening to choke him. Then the absurdity of what she’d just said penetrated. His anger immediately cooled. For a moment he thought he’d challenge her on that. He looked at Melissa, then at the children. They shrank away from him. He was not a monster. He would never strike a child. Yet they walked as if on eggshells around him.

  No wonder—he had no clue how to care for children. He’d hired Annis to watch them. But they were proving too much for her. Not that he had any intention of sharing that information with his guest. Maybe boarding schools were the answer.

  He looked back at Melissa. She might be petite, but she looked as if she’d fight him to the death. And she didn’t even know the children.

  “These are my cousin’s children. Nadia, Hamid, and Alaya. They have come to live with me recently and we haven’t found our way yet. I would prefer you not report me.” Surim let the humor of the situation defuse the tension. He had never heard anyone in Qu’ Arim threaten to report him before. The novelty was priceless.

  “Perhaps they should return home,” Melissa said.

  “Unfortunately, their parents were killed in a car crash and they have no home to return to. As their guardian, I now provide for them.”

  Surim watched as Melissa shifted Hamid in her arms. He had to be growing heavy. At least she had been able to stop his crying, for which Surim was grateful. The nightmares came regularly and Annis seemed incapable of doing anything to stop them. Not that he himself had been any help. Yet Max’s little friend seemed to have the knack of quieting the child. He’d take any help he could get at this point.

  He looked at her once more, surprised to see she was in a gown and robe. Her hair looked soft and touchable, her eyes sparkled with righteousness indignation. And the color that rose in her cheeks intrigued him.

  Max had asked if his assistant could come, more for a holiday than for needed work. Was there something between the two of them? Surim had not seen anything. Which didn’t mean she was totally unattached. Was there a man waiting for her in London?

  “Perhaps you’d help get the children settled for the night,” he said, dragging his speculation back to the matter at hand. With a glance at Annis, he shook his head. The nurse had proved most ineffective when dealing with these children. How hard could it be to put three children to bed at a reasonable time each night? Weren’t nurses supposed to be able to deal with nightmares and other problems Hamid seemed to have?

  “Perhaps I should.” Melissa looked at the two girls. “Hi, I’m Melissa. Want to help me get Hamid to bed? Then I’ll tuck you both in and read you all a story.”

  “Our room is across the hall,” the older girl said. “Hamid couldn’t hear the story from his room.”

  “Then tonight why don’t we have all three of you sleep together, and then everyone can hear at once?”

  “I wuv stories,” the littlest one said.

  “They speak English,” Melissa said, looking at Surim.

  “Their parents lived in England. They were all three born there,” he replied.

  “Ah, I’m from England, too,” she told the children. “Let me tell you about the weather when I left, cold and rainy. They even thought there might be snow in the north before the end of the week. It’s much nicer here.”

  Surim watched as the Englishwoman seemed to effortlessly gather the children to her and head them to the girls’ room. In a moment all he heard was her soft murmur.

  “I’m sorry they disturbed you, Your Excellency. The boy had a nightmare and the girls awoke to come to his aid,” Annis said in Arabic.

  Surim sighed. This was the fifth or sixth time since they’d arrived it had happened. When would it stop?

  “It is to be expected, I suppose. We will discuss the situation in the morning,” he said.

  The older woman scurried away. Surim wished she’d shown a little of the backbone Melissa Fox had when she’d taken him to task. Annis had come highly recommended, but Surim didn’t think much of her abilities with these children. Unlike Melissa Fox, who had miraculously charmed them all.

  Himself included?

  Report him, indeed.

  He crossed the hall and paused near the opened door. The three children were snuggled together in the large bed. Melissa sat in a chair near the head, reading a story. Already little Nadia had her eyes closed. Hamid was fighting sleep.

  Surim watched as Melissa seemed to calm them all, and bring much-needed rest.

  He waited until she checked the children, gently closed the book, and turned off the light. She made it seem easy. Yet he had no idea of what to talk about to a child.

  When she stepped into the hallway, she was surprised to see him.

  “Thank you for getting them to sleep,” he said formally. He was embarrassed a guest in his home had had to involve herself with his responsibilities. But the quiet was much appreciated. He hoped they slept through the night this time.

  “I apologize for speaking to you as I did earlier. It was not my place,” she said, equally formally, looking just beyond his left ear.

  It was a perfect apology, but he didn’t believe she really meant it. From the stiff way she held herself, he had an idea she’d like to tear into him and berate him for not being a better guardian for the children.

  “I hope they will not interrupt your visit a second time,” he said politely.

  She flashed him an annoyed look and turned to walk down the hall. “Children don’t annoy me.”

  Lucky her, that children didn’t annoy her. Or baffle her as they did him. He expected them to do as they were told, but had found in the three weeks they’d been in his home that expectation was not met more times than it was.

  He glanced into the darkened room once more, feeling a sharp pang at the thought of his cousin Mara’s death. She and her husband had been too young. And he had never expected to be named guardian of three children under the age of nine. He knew nothing about children. He’d have his secretary begin researching boarding schools in the morning. There had to be some that would take children as young as two.

  CHAPTER TWO

  MELISSA dressed in a navy suit and sensible shoes the next morning. She and Max were meeting with the contractor at Surim’s offices. Then they would all view the site again, with the foreman explaining each stage. She would begin to earn her salary today. That was if Surim would still let her work. Melissa sighed. She really shouldn’t have threatened him last night. Would he mention the incident to Max? She needed to watch her tongue and not blurt out things before thinking.

  Breakfast was served buffet-style in the dining room. Max was sitting in the spot he’d occupied last night when Melissa entered. After a quick glance around, she breathed a sigh of relief. Surim was not present.

  “Good morning. I hope I’m not late,” she said to Max.

  “Not at all.” He looked up from the English newspaper he was reading, hot tea steaming by his hand. “Surim left a while ago. He’ll meet us when we get to the office. Help yourself to breakfast.”

  Melissa didn’t know if Surim normally ate a hearty English breakfast or had had one set out for his guests, but she gladly dove in. The amount of food out on the sideboard for tw
o people was staggering, yet she saw no sign of the children. She wondered if they’d slept through the night without further incident.

  “What do you think of Qu’ Arim so far?” Max asked when she sat opposite him. He folded his paper and laid it aside.

  Melissa smiled. “About what I expected with a country that has such strong ties with Europe. The downtown buildings are taller than I expected and much more modern. Overall it looks very prosperous. And I especially love the flowers that grow in such profusion.”

  “Surim’s done a terrific job. He was telling me about his plans for expanding their tourist market, which is the reason for the resort. He has an aggressive schedule devised to lure in European and American money. If anyone can pull it off, he can.”

  “That’s why he wants Bella Lucia?”

  “Of course. Anyone from the UK will recognize the name. As we stand for the highest quality it will be a strong draw he wants for the initial guests,” Max said.

  She nodded, glancing at the doorway as she strained to hear any sounds from the children. But the house remained silent. Were they still sleeping? She’d like to spend more time with them. She hadn’t realized how much she’d miss children until she’d taken this extended break between her old job and her new. It was the longest she’d gone without interacting with small children since she’d finished her training.

  “I’m ready when you are,” Max said, folding his napkin.

  Melissa took a final swallow of her coffee and stood. “Let’s go.”

  They had the limo at their disposal and as they were driven through the city streets Melissa felt a hint of excitement at the thought of seeing Surim again. He hadn’t paid her much attention yesterday, and she’d been rude last night. Still, there was a fascination that hadn’t been quelled yet. She’d love to talk to him about his country, about how he felt taking the reins of leadership so young. What changes had he made? What were the plans for the future?

  It wasn’t his looks alone that fascinated her. He was a challenge to talk to, seemed smarter than most men she had dated, and carried himself with confidence bordering on arrogance. Yet on him it sat well. She tried to pinpoint exactly why she felt drawn to the man. He definitely didn’t have a way with children. But many men left most of the child-raising to the wife. He had lots more going for him than being father of the year.