“Max, did you know Surim has three children living with him?” she asked.
“Umm? Children? I don’t think so; he’s not married. Though I heard he’s looking.”
“Maybe because he has those three children,” Melissa said. What did that mean, looking? Could she ask without giving the impression it was important?
“What children?” he said, looking at her.
“Their parents just died. They were raised in the UK and speak English as well as you or I do.”
Max looked at her in puzzlement. “How do you know this?”
“Didn’t you hear them last night? The little boy woke from a nightmare and was crying loud enough I heard him in my room.”
“I didn’t hear anything.” He looked pensive. “I can’t imagine Surim with children. Running a country, yes. Visiting Europe and squiring beautiful women around, yes. Kids, I don’t think so.”
“No surprise there. He didn’t seem to have an ounce of sympathy for the little boy.” She tried to maintain her indignation, but couldn’t help thinking of Surim’s side of things. If he wasn’t used to being around children, becoming an instant guardian to three would be daunting.
The limo stopped in front of a large high-rise glass and steel skyscraper. Max led the way and Melissa hurried to keep up. Tall people never seemed to consider that those not blessed with extraordinary height would have trouble keeping pace.
Entering a mirrored elevator, they were soon whisked to the top floor. Stepping out onto a luxurious carpet, Melissa gazed around, noting the old paintings on the walls, the elegance of the furnishings and the quiet hum of business.
She and Max were ushered into a conference room. The outer wall was of glass, offering a spectacular view of the Gulf. Melissa wanted to stand there and drink in the sight, but Surim was already at the large table with three other men. Introductions were quickly made—the contractor and his assistant, and Surim’s project manager. All the men from Qu’ Arim spoke French, so they used that language, Melissa translating into English for Max.
When she wasn’t speaking, she studied Surim. He had the capacity to totally focus on the situation at hand. Did he bring that focus to his new children?
Would he bring that focus to a woman? She could imagine being the center of his attention; his eyes would gaze into hers. His conversation would be on topics she liked. And the woman would feel like a queen. Not that she would ever know. Not that she wanted to even venture there. She’d been burned badly by Paul and had no intention of flirting with a friend of Max’s. Max had trusted her enough to bring her as his assistant; she would do nothing to damage that relationship. How awkward it would be if Surim complained Melissa was flirting with him. She cringed at the thought.
But she couldn’t help glancing his way again. And came up against his gaze focused on her. He didn’t read minds, did he?
When it was time to go to the construction site, Melissa rode with Surim in his private car, which he drove. Max went with the others in the limo.
“I wished to speak to you privately,” Surim said as they merged into traffic.
“About?” For a moment, despite her best efforts of keeping a businesslike demeanor, her imagination soared. Would he reach out and take her hand? Tell her he was delighted she’d joined Max and would she spend time with him alone before they returned to England? Maybe she’d like to see a quiet place only he knew?
“To thank you for calming young Hamid last night. He has been troubled by nightmares a great deal.”
Her bubble popped.
“Not unexpected if he just lost his parents,” she said, feeling foolish after all. Thankfully no one else knew of her dumb daydreams. She really had to get control of her emotions. Paul should have cured her once and for all of getting ideas about rich, powerful men and their interest in a nanny. Especially with the cultural differences added in.
Surim nodded, focused on driving.
“Perhaps. I hope they won’t bother you tonight,” he said.
“No bother. I’m sorry they are going through such a trying time. It was fortunate they have family to take them in.”
“My cousin’s mother, Tante Tazil, is not well. She is unable to care for them. But I don’t believe they will remain with me for long. I have my secretary looking into boarding schools.”
“What? They’re too young to be sent away!” Good thing she didn’t have any illusions about the man; this would have shattered any lingering ones. Who would think of sending babies to boarding school?
“I went to boarding school when I was nine, in England—which was a foreign country to me. We are looking at schools in England. That is their native country, even though their parents were from Qu’ Arim. They have been raised there and I thought it would make them feel better to be back there.”
“Nadia is still a baby, Hamid can’t be five yet and Alaya is still too young to be sent away. Think, Surim, they are children. They have just suffered a horrific loss of both parents. Being here took them away from the only home they knew, and now you’re proposing to shunt them off to some school—if you can even find one that will take them that young.”
“I’m sure that will not be a problem.”
The arrogant statement caused Melissa’s blood to boil. Men who were obscenely rich thought money could buy everything. But not family ties, not love and loyalty, nor negation of his responsibility to his cousin’s children.
“Maybe not to you, but think of them,” she said. “It would be horrible.”
“They are unhappy and disruptive. During the day they run wild around the house, yelling and breaking things. At night Hamid has nightmares and awakens the entire household. Their nurse cannot control them. I believe a more structured environment would be beneficial. It is not open for discussion; I was merely informing you of my plans.”
They had reached the site of the hotel and he turned to park beside the row of cars and trucks near the building. The activity at the site was a stark contrast to yesterday. The lot was crowded with workers. Trucks of cement were dumping their loads. Men and machines worked as if choreographed, building a structure that would reflect the desires of their sheikh to expand tourism for his country.
Melissa ignored it all, however. She was so angry she could spit! How dared he mess those children around like that? They needed stability and love, guidance and assurance that they were part of a family—not to be sent away from the only relative who was apparently able to look after them.
She reached out and caught his arm, stopping him from exiting the car.
He looked at her with some surprise.
Amazed at her own audacity, she nonetheless held onto her courage. “There has to be other alternatives. Think, please. They’re babies. They need comforting, love. You are their cousin, their guardian. Spend time with them or find other family members who can care for them. Don’t send them to some institutional school so far away.”
“I believe I know what is best for the children.” He slipped his arm from beneath her hand and climbed out of the car.
“I don’t think so,” she muttered, opening her own door and getting out before he could come around to assist. Her opinion of the man dropped significantly! How could he do that to those precious children?
Max had said he was looking for a wife. Maybe his attitude was one of the reasons he wasn’t already married.
Yet her heart ached for those sweet children. Maybe she’d find a way to make him change his mind.
Melissa was tired by the time she and Max returned to Surim’s house in the late afternoon. Dinner would not be for a couple of hours. She quickly showered and put on some casual, light trousers. No one had said she couldn’t visit the children, so she went up to the third floor.
They were sitting in front of a television, the program in Arabic. Why weren’t they outside in the sunshine?
“Hi,” she said, stepping inside the room.
All three kids scrambled to their feet and rushed to greet he
r.
“You came back,” Alaya said in perfect English. “I didn’t think we’d see you again. I’m sorry Hamid woke everyone up last night.”
“I had a nightmare,” the little boy said.
Nadia held up her arms and Melissa scooped her up, hugging her gently, then resting her on her hip.
“What are you doing inside on such a gorgeous day? I heard there’s a path to the beach,” Melissa said. She smiled at the older woman sitting with crochet work in hand.
“Do you mind if I take the children out for a walk?” she asked in French.
With the nurse’s agreement, she told the children to get ready. “We’ll walk there and back. But only on the condition you are on your best behavior,” she admonished, remembering what Surim had said about their running wild.
“We haven’t been outside except to the gardens. Annis doesn’t like to go far. She’s old,” Alaya ended in a whisper.
“Well, I’m not and I’m up for a walk to the beach. Sun cream first and then we’ll leave,” Melissa said. The nurse wasn’t that old—she looked to be about fifty—but to a young girl she probably did seem elderly.
The outing proved to be full of fun. Melissa forgot about being tired and held Nadia’s and Hamid’s hands. Alaya walked on the other side of Nadia, chatting freely.
“We’ve been here a long time it seems and never seen the beach. Our parents died, you know. I really miss Mummy. Is the water cold?” Alaya asked.
“I think it’s warm. We’ll find out together.” Melissa found the gate leading out of the garden and followed the neatly kept path. In only five minutes they reached a pristine stretch of beach totally empty in both directions. The children ran toward the water.
“Don’t go in until I get there,” Melissa called, running after them. It felt so good to be free of office clothes, to be running in the sunshine. The laughter of the children warmed her heart. She was glad she’d followed her instincts and sought them out.
The children kicked off their shoes and waded in the warm sea. Melissa quickly followed, getting the bottoms of her trouser legs wet, but she didn’t care. She was happy to enjoy the excitement of the children.
“I want to go swimming,” Hamid said, splashing his sisters.
“Whoa, not so much water. Another day we’ll ask about swimming. How about we race along the water’s edge? Who can run the fastest?” Melissa said, looking to channel some of their energy. They probably got into trouble in the house from sheer curiosity and exuberance. She’d make sure they got enough exercise to sleep soundly tonight.
“Me,” little Nadia said.
“I can,” Hamid said.
They were off, running at the edge of the water, splashing and laughing. Alaya took off after them, with Melissa following.
When they tired of that, Melissa suggested they build a sandcastle.
Alaya looked sad. “Mummy and Daddy built a fabulous one the last holiday we had. We went to Cornwall.”
“I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you are building a new sandcastle on this beach. It’s a long way from Cornwall, but sand is sand. Won’t you join us?” Melissa wasn’t exactly sure what to say to grieving children, but she knew it was good for the children to talk about their parents.
“You can tell us how to make one like your mummy and daddy built. Did you help them?” she asked.
Alaya nodded. “I miss them.” She started to cry. The other two ran to her, upset by their older sister’s tears.
Melissa reached out to draw her into her arms, hugging her warmly. “I know you do. You will miss them all your life. My daddy died when I was five and I still miss him. But the aching, crushing hurt will diminish, I promise. One day you’ll look back at all your memories so grateful to have them. They’ll bring smiles to your face and a lift of love to your heart.” Melissa wished she had more memories of her father. Alaya was older than she’d been. She would remember. But the others would not. It was so sad.
“I miss Mummy, too,” Hamid said.
Melissa sat on the sand, pulling Alaya down with her, and keeping one arm around her shoulder. She patted her lap and Nadia climbed on, while Hamid crowded from the other side. She wished she could hold each one until the hurt eased.
“Of course you miss them. They were your parents and loved you very much. You know they didn’t want to die.”
“It was a truck, crashing into them,” Alaya said. “The brakes failed, that’s what the policeman said. Why did it have to happen?”
“No one knows things like that, sweetheart,” Melissa murmured. “But you will be cared for here.”
“Nobody here knew our parents or talks about them. It’s as if they were never alive,” Alaya said.
“Your uncle knew your mother. Get him to talk about her and your father. I bet he has wonderful stories about when they were young,” Melissa suggested.
“He’s our cousin,” Alaya said, bitterness tingeing her voice. “He doesn’t want us. Mummy asked him long ago to be our guardian if something happened to them and he said yes. But he doesn’t want us.”
“He’s your family,” Melissa said, hoping it wasn’t a total lie. “He’s just not used to children. We need to find a way to have him feel more comfortable around you.”
“He’s getting married,” Hamid said, looking up at her. “Will she be our new mummy?”
“No, we are not getting another mother,” Alaya said firmly.
Nadia slipped her thumb into her mouth, watching with large eyes.
“Because of the age difference, I’m sure the sheikh wouldn’t mind if you called him Uncle Surim. His new wife will be your new aunt. Have you met her yet?”
“He’s looking,” Alaya said.
“Looking?”
“He needs to get married to have sons to carry on when he dies,” Alaya said.
“But he’s not going to die soon,” Hamid said, looking at his sister. “Is he?”
“No, he has to get married first,” Alaya said.
“How do you know this?” Melissa asked, curious.
Alaya and Hamid looked away.
“Sometimes we spy on him,” she said in a low voice.
“We sneak down the stairs and listen at the door, then run like the wind when someone leaves the office room,” Hamid said.
Melissa was torn between laughter at the picture, and telling them that spying wasn’t really a good thing.
“So he wants babies. They’ll be new cousins for you to play with,” she said, wondering why he was planning to send these adorable children away if he wanted children of his own. She hoped he found his wife soon, and she’d insist on keeping the children.
Paul’s scathing denouncement echoed in her mind. He hadn’t wanted children at all. He considered her involvement with them immature and beneath a woman he’d want to marry. For a moment she was back in the small restaurant hearing his voice, feeling each word as a dart piercing her heart. She’d thought they had so much going for them, until she’d voiced that thought and been soundly corrected. How had she misjudged him so much?
Shaking off the melancholy, she smiled.
“Let’s get going on those sandcastles. Dinner will be soon and we’ll have to return to the house.”
The children scrambled up and ran to the water’s edge again. Soon they were all mounding wet sand, trying to sculpt it with fingers. Melissa made a mental note to see if there were sand toys in the children’s nursery for future visits to the seashore.
Surim walked down the path to the beach alone. Annis had come to tell him the children had not returned in time for their supper. She was worried she’d done the wrong thing by allowing them to go off with his guest. Sometimes it was almost more than he could do to control his frustration. His aunt had insisted Annis be hired to watch her grandchildren. But however qualified Annis appeared on paper, her skill with the children lacked a great deal in his opinion.
As he approached the beach he heard laughter and happy chatter. Pausing by the last of the
green grass, he observed four people caught up in building a sandcastle. Little Nadia for once didn’t have her thumb in her mouth. Hamid was laughing so hard he fell over and rolled on the sand. Alaya stood, running to the water to scoop some in her hands and carry it, dripping all the way, back to the ditch they’d built around the castle.
But the person he had the most difficulty recognizing was Melissa Fox. She looked like one of the children. Gone was her suit and her business attitude. Her hair was flying in the breeze, and her trousers were damp and sandy. He could see the joy in her expression. He was struck by how beautiful she was. Suddenly he was gripped with an urge to see her dressed in a designer gown, with pearls from Qu’ Arim at her throat.
Every one of them was having so much fun a pang of envy struck. Surim couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that. Or spent a carefree afternoon doing nothing more important than building a sandcastle.
Hamid rolled to his knees and caught sight of Surim. The merriment dropped instantly from his face. He said something and the others looked his way. Alaya stopped smiling and stepped closer to Melissa. Nadia popped her thumb back into her mouth and regarded him warily.
Was he frightening to these children? He remembered his cousin Mara fondly. They’d played together when he was younger—not any older than Hamid. He’d seen her often when home from school, before his father had died and his life had changed so drastically. He’d never expected her to die young, or for himself to wind up responsible for her children.
Melissa rose, dusting some of the sand from her clothes.
“Are we late?” she called. She spoke to the children and as one they turned to walk to the water and swish their hands clean. Picking up their shoes, they moved to stand just behind her. In a moment, the little line headed his way, almost like a mother duck with her ducklings following in a row.
The Nanny and the Sheikh Page 3
