The Nanny and the Sheikh

by Barbara McMahon

“Then use your imagination!”

  He closed his case and looked at her.

  “They are well cared for, have everything they could need.”

  “No, they don’t. They need love. They need someone who is interested in them, in what they are doing, what they think, what they are learning.”

  “You’re there for that.”

  “Not for long! They need family.”

  Surim took a moment to consider her passionate statement. She hardly knew the children upstairs, yet she was definitely their advocate. He liked the way she flared up in their defense. Her eyes sparkled, color flooded her cheeks. She had passion and determination. For a moment he was struck with how beautiful she looked. Would she flare in passion for the right man? What would Melissa look like in bed?

  He looked away, not liking his thoughts. Too often over the last few days he’d caught himself thinking about his guest. She was leaving in a few weeks. Maybe asking her to stay had been a mistake.

  For a moment, he tried to imagine being two and having just lost his parents. He’d been spared that. His parents hadn’t died until he was seventeen. Not that they had spent much time with him. He’d gone off to school in England at age nine. He’d been lonely and homesick, but had hidden the fact from the world. Outwardly, he’d projected an image of self-sufficiency. Internally, he’d been a small boy longing for home and parents. Remembering would help him empathize with the children.

  “I don’t know how to make them feel wanted,” he said slowly. He knew how to run his country, after years of trial and error; years of frustration and triumphs. But he didn’t know how to relate to a two-year-old girl. He wasn’t someone used to failure. Somehow, he had to learn to relate to them.

  And focus on them. Not on the temporary guest who would be leaving in February.

  Melissa nodded. “The only suggestion I can make is to spend more time with them. Today would have been good going to the beach. Can you join us later? Nadia naps after lunch, while the others play quietly. But we could go back after that.”

  The last thing Surim had expected when he’d awoken this morning was to cancel plans to take an excursion to the beach. He didn’t have time to rearrange his entire schedule to deal with three children.

  Yet they were Mara’s children. And if he didn’t get to know them now, then when?

  “If I can arrange it, I’ll join you.” He’d have to call Delleah and cancel their plans for dinner. Not that it would be a hardship. He knew she had hopes of marriage, but after the way she’d betrayed his confidence he’d had second thoughts.

  She had seemed suitable. Yet there were many suitable women available. It would be best to make haste slowly, as his teacher in England had often said.

  “One more thing before you go. Can we arrange a time to take them to see their grandmother? I think that would help with the transition. I know you said she’s in frail health, but a short visit would be all right, wouldn’t it?” she asked.

  “I will call and make arrangements.”

  “That would be perfect. I’ll coach them on manners and hope she doesn’t offer milk and biscuits in the drawing room,” Melissa said, teasing.

  He looked away before he forgot she was a guest in his home and reached out to kiss her. Her mouth was eminently kissable.

  “She does speak English, doesn’t she?” Melissa asked.

  “Yes, quite well. She visited the children in England. Since the death of her daughter, however, she’s been prostrate with grief and has not made an effort to see them. I will make sure she does so.”

  “Maybe I had better not tell them until you confirm. I don’t want to raise hopes to have them dashed down.”

  Surim nodded. “I will have my secretary call once we’ve confirmed the visit. Now, if you would excuse me, I do have to get to that meeting.” he said. But even as he spoke, for the first time since he could remember, he didn’t want to deal with affairs of state. Maybe he should arrange that trip to the oasis with Melissa. Yet he hesitated. How involved with the English guest did he wish to become? He had not shared his desert retreat with anyone.

  She nodded and turned to leave. Surim followed her to the foyer. Melissa intrigued him. She was the only woman he knew that didn’t flirt. At least not with him. She was more concerned for three children she scarcely knew.

  Was his interest in her merely because of that? Perhaps he was getting spoiled with the attention normally received and was annoyed she also didn’t seem to fall in line.

  Wouldn’t Max laugh if he knew his thoughts?

  Once in the car a few moments later, Surim reviewed his schedule for the next few days. With some juggling of appointments, some more delegation of duties, he might be able to free up a few days to spend with his guest. She was doing him a favor in helping with the children. The least he could do was make sure she saw more of the country—and didn’t spend her entire visit with the under-ten set.

  It was shortly after four when Surim strode onto the beach. The meetings had ended shortly after one, but he’d spent the rest of the afternoon trying to rearrange his schedule. He paused a moment watching the scene. Alaya was splashing in the water, laughing. From this distance he could see back across the years to when he and Mara had played in the sea. They’d been fearless—diving, swimming, racing. How she’d loved the water.

  Hamid was building another sandcastle. This one was almost as tall as he was. Surim suspected he’d had some help from Melissa. But at the moment she was occupied with Nadia. He wasn’t sure what they were doing, but it looked as if they were making building blocks from wet sand. Too small to be for Hamid’s castle. Perhaps they planned one of their own.

  Melissa noticed him first. Her look of delight jolted something inside him. For a moment, Surim wanted to simply bask in the bright smile she gave so frequently. She was wearing shorts and her legs looked golden against the sand. Her laughter rang out and he soaked it in. He trusted her in a way he didn’t often trust. Was it because Max vouched for her? Or her own innate sense of fair play that appealed to him?

  She must have told Nadia he had arrived because the little girl looked over. Gravely she rose and started toward him.

  He walked to meet her, noticing the other children had seen him as well.

  “Hi, Uncle Surim,” Nadia said simply, raising her arms to be picked up.

  He lifted her, surprised at how little she weighed. “Are you enjoying yourself at the beach?” he asked. What did one say to a two-year-old?

  “Yes. Me and Lissa are making cakes. Do you want one?”

  Use your imagination, Melissa had told him. He smiled at the little girl. “I’d very much love to try one of your cakes.”

  “Only pretend, don’t really put in your mouth,” she said.

  “I can do that.” He’d reached the castle. “Good job, Hamid,” he said, studying the structure. It was surprisingly complex for so young a child.

  Hamid smiled, not meeting Surim’s eyes, but he could tell the boy was pleased with the praise.

  “Alaya, not so far out,” Melissa called. Surim turned to look at the child in the water just as Alaya turned and swam back toward shore.

  “She swims well, like her mother,” Surim said joining Melissa.

  “And she wants to swim farther out in the deeper water, but I can’t watch her closely and the other two as well. If she gets in trouble, I don’t want her so far out it would take long to rescue her.”

  “I will swim with her. Her mother and I loved to race to the buoy.”

  Melissa looked at the marker bobbing in the water some distance away.

  “That far?” she asked doubtfully.

  “We were a little older, but not much. Mara loved the water.”

  “So do her children.” Melissa smiled at him holding the toddler. “I see you and Nadia have made up.”

  “Nothing to make up. It was an accident.”

  “Your suit was ruined.”

  “Milk-stained only. A competent cleaner will get
it back to normal. And if not, it’s only a suit. I have plenty.”

  “Want me to take her?” Melissa held out her arms for Nadia, but the little girl threw her arms around Surim’s neck.

  “No, we have cake,” she said.

  “I said I’d try one, but it’s only pretend, I can’t eat it,” Surim said.

  Melissa nodded. “Very good, Nadia. I’ve been telling her that all day. I think she believes the sand is sugar. It does look like it, though, so white and fine.”

  While Surim sat with Nadia and played they were eating cake, Melissa glanced around. Hamid was settled, Alaya not too distant.

  “Melissa, come and swim,” Alaya called. She stood waist-deep in the blue water, beckoning.

  “Why don’t you go swim with her now?” Melissa suggested. “Tell her about racing with her mother.”

  Surim nodded. “Do you want to go swimming too?” he asked Nadia.

  The little girl nodded.

  “I’ll take her for a short swim, then bring her right back and go with Alaya,” he said. In only a moment he’d set the toddler down to remove his shirt and shorts.

  Melissa caught her breath at the sight of his bare chest. It was the warm color of teak, solid and muscular. She was surprised at how fit he was. Business suits hid all that. And a good thing, she thought, forcing her gaze away. She clenched her hands into fists, feeling the grit of the sand. Better than giving into temptation to trace the contours of those muscles. Feel the warmth of his skin.

  Get a grip, she admonished. If Surim ever caught a hint of her attraction, he’d send her packing so fast her head would spin. Then what of the children?

  Of course, leaving might be the best thing. She knew she would be a total idiot to fall for him. The sooner he established a relationship with these children, the better.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Melissa nodded, scrambling to her feet. “I’ll see if Hamid wishes to go swimming now,” she said, refusing to let her eyes feast on that tanned expanse before her. She’d seen men swimming before, for heaven’s sake. Ignore him, she told her roiling senses.

  The remainder of the afternoon passed swiftly. Melissa kept a prudent distance from her host. The children were cautious in their approach to Surim, but by the end of the swimming race Alaya was laughing and seemed comfortable around her much older cousin.

  Surim excused himself as they headed back for the house, claiming a prior engagement. Melissa was just as glad not to test the children’s manners at dinner; they were too tired after their exertions to behave without being cranky.

  Melissa was also glad to escape the presence of Surim for personal reasons. She was stunned at the attraction that grew the longer she was around him. She’d be leaving soon. And even if she wasn’t, she would never succumb to the cliché of falling for the dashing man. Sheikh Surim Al-Thani could look at whomever he wanted for his bride. The last person he’d consider falling for was a children’s nanny.

  Besides, after thinking herself in love with Paul Hemrich, and having that end disastrously, the last thing she needed was to fall for a man so far from her realm. She’d gotten over the heartache of Paul during the last few months. But she was still feeling a bit bruised and had no wish to repeat that experience!

  Once the children were in bed, Melissa retired to her room. She’d write to her mother and to some friends in Switzerland, and forget about Paul. And Surim.

  However, Melissa found it was easy to forget the young German banker she’d found so fascinating, but a different matter to refrain from thinking about her host. Recalling the beautiful, sultry beauty she’d met at the reception, Melissa knew she didn’t stand a chance, even if their circumstances had been different.

  Sighing softly, she resumed her letters, trying to keep focused on them.

  Try as she might, however, her letters related a lot about Surim, from working with him on the restaurant project, to his difficulty associating with the children, to the attempts he was making at forging family ties.

  Throwing down her pen a little later, she rose and stretched. She’d reread the pages in the morning and then ask to have them posted. In the meantime, she herself was tired from the day in the sunshine. Was Surim still out at his prior engagement? Was it dinner with the beautiful Delleah? Would he be asking her to marry him at that very moment?

  Frowning, Melissa hoped not. Delleah didn’t seem to like the children. How would that work to have her become their stepmother?

  Before going to bed, she’d love a hot cup of tea. Wondering if she could just zip into the kitchen and make herself a pot without bothering anyone, she left her room and headed for the dining room. From there she’d be able to locate the kitchen, she hoped.

  She’d barely stepped foot on the ground floor before one of Surim’s servants stepped out of the shadows.

  “Do you wish something?” he asked in French.

  “Some tea, please,” she replied.

  “I’m happy to get it for you. Please wait in the drawing room.” He vanished into the darkened hallway.

  “So much for a midnight kitchen raid,” she murmured, walking into the still-lighted formal drawing room. It was decorated with exotic heavy furnishings, some pieces quite old. She loved the richness of the colors of the fabrics, the deep maroons, peacock-blues and iridescent greens. Brass tacks outlined several chair arms. On the walls were magnificent paintings, huge landscapes of the desert and some of the beautiful blue Persian Gulf. There were displays of pearls in one cabinet. She crossed the room to study them. Maybe she could get a tour at one of the pearl farms before she left Qu’ Arim.

  The display was fabulous. She wished she knew more about pearls. The color variation was amazing, from snowy white to deep cream even to one which was a dark, shimmering gray. A couple were the size of her thumb, but most were much smaller. Perfect spheres, they were displayed on satin that captured their sheen and enhanced the color.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Surim asked from the doorway.

  Melissa turned, surprised. “Oh, yes, they are. I wondered if I might be able to see the divers one day before I leave.”

  “I’m sure a visit can be arranged to one of the beds, but the pearl season is summer, not winter, so there would be little to see. You’re up late.”

  “I’m waiting for a cup of tea. I thought I might just dash down to get it for myself, but one of your servants met me in the hall and asked me to wait here while he went for it. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

  “It is our pleasure to look after our guests,” Surim said. “The more welcomed we make you feel, the longer you will stay.”

  She smiled wistfully. “It would be lovely to do so. I’ll hate leaving this warm climate for snow and ice. But I’ve already accepted and it wouldn’t be fair to the McDonalds to back out at the last minute. I know their children. They’re counting on me. Besides, I can’t stay on indefinitely. That would be taking hospitality too far.”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  Melissa shook her head. “Thank you for asking, but I have to stand by my commitment.”

  He studied her for a moment, then inclined his head slightly. “The offer remains open should you change your mind.”

  The servant entered carrying a tray with a teapot and two cups. He placed them on the table in front of the sofa and bowed before leaving.

  “Enough for two?” Surim asked.

  “So it seems. Would you like some?”

  “I should be delighted to join you.”

  He waited until she sat on the sofa, then took a seat on the chair next to it. Melissa poured the fragrant beverage into two cups, handing him one. His fingertips brushed hers when he took the cup.

  “I may have some more documents for you to translate for Max tomorrow. I’ll have them brought to the house,” Surim said. “We discussed further enhancements tonight at dinner and I want to make sure they meet Max’s approval. He’s very protective of this new venture.”

&nbs
p; “Oh, I thought—” Melissa started, then quickly took a sip of tea.

  “Thought what?” Surim asked.

  “That your engagement tonight was personal.”

  “A date?” he asked calmly.

  She nodded.

  “It was a meeting with the contractor. The changes need to be incorporated early, so there was no time for delay. As I said, I consider you a guest in my house. I would include you in social events.”

  Melissa looked surprised. “I understood you are looking for a wife. I’d hardly expect to be included when you and a date are having dinner.”

  “Ah, but we don’t need privacy if I have dinner with someone. In Qu’ Arim we don’t view marriage the same as you do in England. Here it is primarily an alliance between two families.”

  “Arranged marriages?”

  “For the most part. Parents arrange the marriage settlement. Powerful families are allied with other powerful families, or the arrangements supplement areas of weakness within different families. Maybe one is strong in commerce while another is strong in transportation, a perfect mix.”

  “What about love?”

  “One always hopes affection will grow from the union,” Surim said.

  “So no one marries for love? What about the children’s parents?”

  “As it happens, they had known each other as children and had fallen in love. Their parents settled the terms of the marriage, but for them it was the best of both our customs and western custom.”

  “So you’re not looking for love in a match?” Melissa thought that sounded rather cold. She couldn’t imagine being married and not being passionately in love with her husband.

  Surim sipped his tea, regarding her over the rim of the cup. Setting it back on the saucer and placing both on the table, he sat back in the chair. “It’s a western belief. I shall find a suitable woman.”

  “Sounds sad to me. Where would be the joy?” Melissa asked.

  “I would choose someone who had similar interests; we would be compatible in that regard. And find happiness in children.”

  “You have three children—so far it doesn’t look as if they’re bringing you a lot of happiness,” she commented dryly. If she hadn’t stepped in, they would be on their way to a boarding school hundreds of miles away.