“It was. Do you want me to carry her?”
“It might be easier,” Melissa said at the bottom of the stairs to the nursery. But when she went to hand her to Surim, Nadia clung and began to cry.
“Okay, baby, there, there, you’re fine. You stay right here with me,” she said, hugging her again, giving Surim a quick shake of her head.
“Just don’t fall,” he said, holding her elbow as they descended the main stairs.
In only moments they were heading for the inner city and one of the best hospitals in Qu’ Arim.
It didn’t take the doctors long to diagnose Nadia’s illness.
“Meningitis? Where would she have got meningitis?” Melissa asked, stunned.
Surim looked at her. “Did you take her someplace recently? Was she exposed to crowds?”
“Except for the souks and the restaurant Friday, we haven’t been anywhere since I arrived, except the beach and grounds. Oh, Surim, she’s so little to be this sick.”
He reached out and captured her hand with his, squeezing slightly and drawing her closer as he spoke with the doctor. The little girl was gravely ill. They immediately put her on an IV for fluids and medication. She was being taken to Intensive Care.
“I want to go with her,” Melissa said at one point, not understanding a word the doctor was saying, but determined not to leave Nadia alone where she’d be frightened.
Surim spoke to the doctor and the man nodded.
“We can stay with her. She’ll have a private room and full-time nurse. Do you want to go home first and change?”
“No, I want to be with her right now. Is she awake?”
“He says she is asleep and will be in her room in a couple of minutes.”
The doctor spoke at length again and Surim nodded. The doctor bowed slightly and left.
“What was that last bit? More bad news?”
“Bacterial meningitis is highly contagious. You and I need shots, as does anyone in the household who has been around Nadia. I am having a doctor go to the house to inoculate everyone. Let’s hope Alaya and Hamid don’t come down with this. Once we have our shots, we’ll be permitted to go to her room.”
In less than twenty minutes Melissa and Surim entered the private room. A nurse looked up at their arrival and Surim spoke rapidly in Arabic. Melissa scarcely noticed; she rushed to the bed.
Nadia looked so tiny in the hospital crib. There was an IV drip into her left arm, the needle taped into place. She opened her eyes when Melissa arrived and held out her arms.
Wrapping her in the blanket, Melissa eased her from the crib, Surim helping to keep the tube untangled. She sat on the chair and cuddled Nadia close.
“There, sweetie, we’re here. You’re going to be fine.”
She held her for several minutes and gradually Nadia grew quiet and sleepy.
“This place needs a rocking chair,” she said, rocking back and forth with the toddler.
“I shall see to it,” Surim said, hovering over the two of them.
“She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?” Melissa asked in French. She knew meningitis was especially deadly with the old and the young. She didn’t want to even think about Nadia not recovering. But if she had to hear bad news, she didn’t want Nadia to also hear it.
“It will be some hours before the doctor knows for sure,” Surim said. He dragged another chair over and reached out to caress Nadia’s cheek. “I didn’t realize how tiny she is. When she’s running around, she’s so full of energy. Then, suddenly, this.”
“It did come on fast, but I think that’s expected for this disease. So there’s someone else in this city who has this illness. Do you have a public health system to warn citizens? What about the other children?”
“It is taken care of. Now we have to concentrate on getting this child well.”
Surim admired Melissa’s composure. He could do no less, but the fear that grew inside was hard to contain. He brushed the child’s soft cheek and felt the heat. She seemed smaller than her two years. And so precious. When had he fallen in love with Mara’s children? He knew he’d never be the same if something happened to her.
Yet he felt totally powerless to do anything. He hated the feeling. He had the entire country at his disposal, yet the doctor said all was being done that could be. Nature and the antibiotics they were giving her would have to take their course.
He wanted guarantees. He wanted to know this child would survive, thrive and grow into a beautiful woman as her mother had been.
“How do parents stand it?” he murmured.
“What?” Melissa turned to look at him. She was so close. Her beautiful face was drawn with worry. Her eyes haunted.
He wanted to comfort her, but lacked the words.
“Deal with sickness with their children. I feel so helpless.”
“Me, too. I guess it’s just part of life. But it’s hard, isn’t it? This is my first experience with a serious illness, though I had training for it. At a resort, children are rarely sick, except for tummy aches for overindulging.” She bit her lip, looking back at Nadia. “She’s been through a lot for two years of life. I’m hoping she’s strong enough to beat this.”
“She is. She has to be!”
Melissa gave a soft smile and reached out to grasp his hand. “From your lips to God’s ear,” she said.
The hours dragged by slowly. At one point Surim persuaded Melissa to replace the sleeping child in the crib to give her arms a rest.
He asked the nurse to bring in a rocking chair. He called his aide and made sure he had things covered. Surim also instructed him to have the inoculation, and then make sure everyone at the house complied. He also told him to bring a change of clothing for both of them.
He called Annis to speak with her, telling her what Nadia had, and warning her to downplay the severity with the other children. He did not want them upset any more than necessary.
Melissa’s eyes were gritty with lack of sleep. But she was afraid to doze off for fear Nadia would need her. She felt fearful the child would not respond to the medication. Or there would be lasting problems caused by the disease. How could she have left her tonight for a party when Nadia had needed her? She rose again and leaned over the crib, rearranging the light covers, hoping the child would wake up feeling better.
Surim came back into the hospital room.
“Any change?” he asked.
Melissa shook her head. She straightened and looked at him, wanting more than he could give.
“The doctor said there wouldn’t be for a while; I was hopeful, however. They are doing all they can,” he said, looking at the little girl.
“You say that often enough and I’ll believe it,” she said crossly. “Why can’t they cure her instantly?”
“That’s what I want as well.”
“Surim, what if she doesn’t get better?” Melissa asked on a whisper. “I couldn’t bear that.”
He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “She will get well, Melissa. I won’t accept anything else.”
Startled, Melissa gave a choked gurgle of laughter at the thought of Surim ordering the disease away. The laughter quickly dissolved into tears. She was so afraid for Nadia.
Surim’s embrace tightened, trying to give her courage and hope by his presence. She relished the steady beat of his heart, the strength of his arms. She couldn’t imagine spending this watch alone. What if the child had been in a boarding school, thousands of miles away from anyone who cared.
“Melissa?”
“She’s so little.”
“She’ll be fine; we have to hold onto that thought.”
She nodded, brushing her tears and looking up at him.
He brushed another lonely tear away from her cheek, then leaned closer and kissed her.
His lips against hers broke something loose inside. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, pouring out the feelings she kept hidden. She loved this man. She knew they would never share a fu
ture together, but for tonight, being together in this hospital room, sharing the vigil, was enough. She’d draw from his strength and go on once Nadia was out of danger.
He ended the kiss far too soon for her. But only a second later a nurse entered carrying a rocking chair. Had he heard her footsteps in the hall?
Melissa stepped away quickly. She could not bear to have adverse gossip circulate because of his comforting gesture. And that was all it was, for comfort. She appreciated his efforts. At least, for a few startling moments, it had taken her mind off Nadia’s illness.
Once the nurse had checked the baby and left, Surim turned to Melissa.
“I’m glad you’re here with me for this. I just wish she’d wake up and be fit again.”
“Me, too,” she said, leaning against him as he encircled her shoulders and the two of them watched the sick little girl.
Nadia, however, was slow to respond to the drugs. The next day passed with nurses and doctors watching her closely. Melissa changed into comfortable clothes brought from home. She rarely left the toddler’s side, holding her when she was awake, watching her closely while she slept.
Surim was there longer than she’d expected. He left for a couple of hours in the afternoon, returning in time to spell her for a meal. He insisted she go outside and walk around the building if nothing else.
“I don’t want you dropping from exhaustion. Then where would we be?” he asked.
“What about you?”
“I had exercise, and checked on the other children. They are worried about you and Nadia.”
“Me?”
“In light of their parents’ deaths, any prolonged absence is suspect,” he explained.
“Of course. But I can’t leave Nadia.”
“Tonight, once she’s asleep, I think it best if we both return home for an hour or two to reassure Hamid especially. I’d hate for him to have nightmares again.”
“I don’t want to leave her.”
“You will do her no service if you get ill yourself. And the other children want to see you.”
Melissa took a breath. He was right. And she worried about the others. She wanted to make sure they weren’t coming down with meningitis too. “Very well.” And maybe Nadia would be on the road to recovery by the time she saw Alaya and Hamid.
The two older children rushed to greet Melissa and Surim when they arrived home. They had been sitting on the stairs waiting for them.
“I thought you’d gone away,” Hamid said, hugging Melissa.
“No, sweetie, just staying at the hospital with Nadia.”
“Is she going to die?” Alaya asked.
“No.” Melissa refused to consider that.
“Can we see her?”
“When she’s well again, we’ll bring her home and you’ll all be together again,” Melissa promised, hoping that would be sometime very soon.
“And how do you two feel?” Surim asked.
“I’m fine. Annis said my appetite is like a camel,” Hamid boasted.
Melissa laughed. “I’m so glad to hear that. And you, Alaya?”
“I miss Nadia. When is she coming home?”
“We don’t know that yet. But she’s getting the best care at the hospital.”
Alaya didn’t look convinced.
“Come into the salon and we’ll tell you all we know,” Surim suggested, holding out his hand to Hamid.
The four of them soon settled on the sofa, the two children between the two adults.
“Mummy and Daddy went to hospital before they died,” Hamid said gravely.
“Yes, but most of the time staying in a hospital gets people well. Nadia will get better and be home before you know it,” Surim said gently.
“I know it now and she’s not home,” Alaya said. “Can we go see her?”
“Not just yet. When she’s better, we’ll see if that will be permitted.”
Melissa was so tired she wanted to lie down and go to sleep for a week. But she knew they had to reassure these children and then she had to go back to the hospital. She was still too worried about Nadia to leave her for long. The toddler was not yet out of danger. And Melissa was afraid she’d wake up and not see a familiar face by her bed.
After spending time with the children, and putting them to bed, Surim took Melissa back to the hospital.
“I’m sure they will be fine. Annis will watch them carefully,” he said in response to her worry about Alaya and Hamid.
“Physically, sure. But you saw how much reassurance they needed. I feel so torn.”
“I don’t think they’ll stop worrying about Nadia until she’s home.”
“Which I do hope will be soon.”
Melissa felt his warm, strong hand briefly squeeze hers, and she closed her eyes. He was trying to comfort her. Just as she was certain he’d meant to do when he’d kissed her at the hospital. Only she hadn’t reacted as if it was comfort. Desire had spiked. Yearning for more than a brief embrace had flared. She had fallen in love with the man and he hadn’t a clue. He was planning to marry a suitable woman from his own culture and Melissa was destined to be on the outside forever.
Only, she wasn’t sure she could do that anymore. His kisses had unlocked something wild and demanding. She wanted more, and if she couldn’t have it she wasn’t strong enough to stay and watch him marry another woman and bring her to the lovely house by the sea. She couldn’t bear to take care of his children when she suddenly wanted to have his children herself.
A darling little boy with dark eyes like his father. And, hopefully, a girl with long black hair, who would wrap Surim around her little finger just as Nadia had done.
Yet could she bear to leave Alaya, Hamid and Nadia? She loved those children. She’d had no idea working for a family would be so vastly different from her childcare position at the resort. There she’d made friends with children, but none had stayed beyond two weeks. She remembered different ones fondly, but none with the love she had for Surim’s wards.
“We’re here,” Surim said a moment later.
Melissa blinked and looked around. He had parked in the car park next to the hospital. The journey had flown by.
“Are you sure you should be here tonight? You could stay home. I’ll call if there is any change,” he said, but Melissa shook her head.
“I need to be with her. She’s so tiny. What if she awoke and we weren’t there?”
“I’ll be here. It’s not as if she’d awake to strangers.”
“You’re staying?”
“Of course. Nadia is my own. I’m as worried about her as you are.”
He reached out a hand and cradled her jaw and cheek. “But I’m also worried about you.” He brushed his thumb beneath her eye. “You look so tired.”
Her heart rate increased exponentially at his touch, at his words. Try as she might to remain rational, hope blossomed. “I am, and I’m worried. But I couldn’t sleep at home. I need to be with her,” she said firmly.
For a moment he gazed into her eyes, before leaning over and brushing his lips against hers.
“Then let’s go see how our girl is doing.”
Nadia was still sleeping. According to the nurse, she had not stirred while they’d been gone.
Surim checked on her while Melissa watched, seeing the difference in him from when she’d first arrived. When she left, she’d go knowing the children had made a place for themselves with Surim. He wouldn’t send them away to a school. They had gradually formed a strong bond of love. Melissa wanted to be thankful for that, but she felt the happiness she’d known these last weeks slipping away. She didn’t want to leave, but she couldn’t stay.
About ten-thirty Nadia woke up. She was fretful, but sipped some juice and the nurse was pleased with that. Another round of tests followed. It was almost midnight by the time Melissa sat in the rocking chair and held the child. She still ran a high fever, but was kept hydrated by the IV. She was listless, which was so unlike her. Melissa rocked her gently, wishing she co
uld send good health through osmosis.
Yasine tapped quietly on the open door. She was dressed as if for a party in a silk suit and pearls. She rushed into the room to Surim, who rose as she reached him.
“Oh, Surim, I just found out when I was at a dinner party tonight and had my driver come immediately.” She looked at Nadia, cuddled with Melissa. “How is she? What distressing news.”
“She is still quite sick.” He escorted Yasine from the room. “Meningitis can be contagious; you should not be in the room.”
Melissa didn’t hear any more, except the low murmur of voices in the hall. She rested her head against Nadia’s and continued rocking. She appreciated the woman’s instant response. She would undoubtedly make a good mother for the children.
When Nadia fell asleep some time later, Melissa put her back in the crib. Surim still had not returned. Had he escorted Yasine home? She paced the room trying to work out the kinks from sitting so long in the rocking chair. When she went to the window, all she saw was darkness. The grounds of the hospital were not lit up this late. Still she gazed out into the night. The stars were bright in the sky. She wished she were in the garden at Surim’s home. Enjoying the peaceful night—and with no worries.
“Melissa?” He had entered without her hearing him.
She turned.
“You need to get some rest,” he said, crossing the room to her side. His hands came to her shoulders to massage away some of the tension.
She looked at the little girl in the crib, rather than look into Surim’s eyes. He couldn’t see her feelings, could he? She’d be mortified if he suspected. But every fiber of her being longed to sink in against him, absorb some of his strength.
When his hands moved up to her neck and then threaded in her hair, she almost moaned with pleasure. He tilted her head slightly and she looked into his dear familiar eyes, her heart catching.
He narrowed his own gaze and stared into her eyes. “I want to kiss you again.”
A sweet smile came involuntarily. “I should like that above all things,” she said simply. She was too tired to dissemble tonight. She already knew she had to leave. What would one more kiss hurt?
The Nanny and the Sheikh Page 15
