Sheikh Surgeon

by Meredith Webber

  All done, she slipped on the dress, surprised to find it so light she felt as if she was still naked. A plain garment but not a cheap one! She fingered the fabric—a fine-woven silk, she guessed. But it wasn’t until she looked at herself in the mirror that she realised just how special the garment was. She looked beautiful—not an adjective she could ever remember using to describe herself. But something about the colour, or the cut, or the combination of both, made her look tall, slim and elegant, while at the same time the dress shimmied down her body so her curves looked curvier, and going in and out in all the right places as well.

  ‘Wow!’ she muttered at her reflection.

  ‘Wow!’ Patrick echoed when he opened the door of Kal’s apartment a few minutes later. ‘New dress, Mum?’

  But it wasn’t Patrick’s reaction she was after and although she answered him, she was watching Kal, feeling as well as seeing his scrutiny, so when his eyes met hers, his hot with desire, Nell felt a surge of triumph, then immediately squashed it.

  The last thing she needed was Kal desiring her!

  Wasn’t it?

  Chapter 7

  She was beautiful, and Kal ached to tell her, ached to hold her, but so much had gone wrong between them he couldn’t find the words.

  Couldn’t say them either, in front of Patrick.

  The reminder aggravated him and he realised for the first time just how awkward having a teenage boy around could make things.

  Should have thought of it earlier when he caught you about to kiss her.

  Yes, he should have, but he hadn’t and now he wanted to tell Nell she was beautiful, but it wasn’t only Patrick inhibiting him. No matter how attractive Nell was or how attracted he, Kal, was to her, in the back of his mind all the time was the fact that she’d cheated him, and the more he saw of Patrick the more he felt how much he’d lost in not seeing his son grow up and the more his anger at Nell grew.

  ‘So, where are we going, Kal? Do you mind me calling you Kal?’

  Patrick grinned at him, then added, ‘I’m sure you’d like it better than me calling you Pops!’

  ‘Pops?’ Kal echoed weakly, then as Patrick fell about laughing he realised it was a joke and smiled. Nell was smiling, too, a small smile, though the glint in her eyes suggested she’d thought it just as funny as Patrick had but didn’t want to laugh.

  And seeing her, with the smile on her delicately painted lips and the light glimmering in her amazing, cool grey eyes, his body stirred with a desire so deep and strong it startled him.

  How could anger and desire co-exist, so both were equally fierce emotions?

  ‘Kal’s fine,’ he said, then realised he’d spoken too abruptly when Patrick, who’d been heading for the elevator, turned back towards him. ‘Really!’ Kal added in a gentler tone, reminding himself of the sensitivities of adolescents.

  He took Nell’s elbow and guided her along the corridor behind Patrick, who was now loping along, bowling an imaginary cricket ball.

  ‘Does he play cricket as well as soccer?’ Kal asked Nell, inwardly congratulating himself on his outward composure, given the state of his mind and the problem desire had caused in his body.

  ‘He did,’ Nell said. ‘He’s sports mad, although his one great desire has always been to learn more about falconry.’

  She turned towards Kal and smiled—at him, not Patrick this time—causing him more discomfort.

  ‘I should never have told him about your birds.’

  ‘I’ll take him to see them, of course,’ Kal told her, then realised Patrick had stopped bowling and was waiting for them to catch up.

  ‘To see your falcons? You would? Cool! When?’

  Nell laughed.

  ‘There’s a certain immediacy at that age,’ she told Kal, who could only look at this beautiful, laughing woman and shake his head.

  He considered himself something of an expert where women were concerned. Admittedly, as the hospital had grown and his responsibilities had grown with it, he’d had less time for dalliance, but when he and his wife had divorced, he’d discovered a single man was in great demand, particularly with the ex-pats who lived, worked and played in the burgeoning city. So he’d had no trouble at all finding women with whom to enjoy a pleasant, relaxed, no-strings-attached relationship.

  But Nell? He had no idea where he stood with her as far as a relationship was concerned.

  Not a clue! Most of the time they’d spent together had been in argument, which had put distance between them, but earlier today, when he’d been about to kiss her, she hadn’t moved away.

  And that night—he’d lost count of how many nights ago it had been—she’d responded to his love-making with so much ardour she must still feel something for him—even if it was only physical! So how could she be so cool? How could her body not be burning for a repeat session, and how could it not be tied in knots of frustration over the situation with Patrick being there?

  The anger bubbled to the surface again. He scowled at her then regretted it as her laughter faded.

  ‘What now?’ she demanded quietly, as Patrick stepped into the elevator ahead of them.

  Kal shook his head, then offered a smile himself. It would definitely lack the radiance of hers, but right now a partial, forced stretching of the lips was the best he could do.

  ‘So, where are we going?’

  Patrick repeated the question he’d asked earlier, and Kal, relieved to have something other than his libido to think about, answered him.

  ‘There’s a restaurant on the top floor of a new building on the seashore. Remember as we came in to land I showed you how the Gulf of Arabia curls into the land?’

  ‘And you said you used to go fishing where all the skyscrapers are now?’ Patrick replied. ‘Cool!’

  Nell watched her son interacting with his father and felt an ache in the region of her heart. Not only had she denied Kal the opportunity to see his son grow up—a denial she was certain he would never forgive—but she’d denied Patrick a father.

  Had she done the wrong thing all those years ago?

  ‘Mum goes off into a fugue state like that now and then,’ she heard Patrick say, and wondered what she’d missed of the conversation.

  They were exiting the elevator now, not on the ground floor where she’d been before but into a well-lit basement. Kal led the way to a big, black, four-wheel-drive vehicle, and the lights on it flickered as he released the door locks.

  ‘Kids in the back,’ he said to Patrick, who accepted the decree with only a token protest, although, as Nell settled into the front passenger seat, she wished she’d had the foresight to grab the back seat for herself. Admittedly the car was wide, but Kal was still too close, the energy his body seemed to radiate buzzing against her skin, while his aftershave—a musky tang she wouldn’t have said she liked had she sniffed it in a shop—permeated all her senses, firing her body to an agony of desire she hadn’t felt for fourteen years and had never thought to feel again.

  ‘Comfortable?’ Kal asked.

  ‘No!’ came out before she’d considered the repercussions.

  Kal smiled as if he knew exactly why she’d said it, but of course Patrick had to ask.

  ‘It’s the dress,’ she told him, which both was and wasn’t a lie. She was reasonably sure it was the feel of the silk brushing against her body that was making whatever Kal was doing to her worse, but the excuse she offered Patrick had nothing whatsoever to do with the fabric. ‘I lost my luggage when I arrived and Yasmeen, a doctor I work with, was kind enough to go out and get me some clothes, which is just as well as I haven’t had a spare moment to myself. And though the dress is beautiful, you know me, Patrick, more at home in jeans and a cotton shirt.’

  ‘Or a miniskirt,’ Patrick reminded her. ‘You’ve still got great legs, Mum,’

  ‘Tha-ank y-o-u,’ Nell said, making her voice sound old and croaky, concentrating on Patrick so she could ignore the questioning look Kal was throwing her way.

  ‘Mum used t
o wear a miniskirt to cricket matches in summer until all my friends started getting older and whistling.’

  Why had she brought up her son to be so open and forthcoming? Why couldn’t he be like the teenagers she knew who were content to sit silent and slightly surly in adult company?

  ‘But I guess women don’t wear miniskirts much in this country,’ Patrick continued, ‘though you’d see Mum still had good legs if you took us swimming.’

  A ripple of apprehension feathered along Nell’s spine. Was Patrick’s conversation more than idle chatter?

  Surely he couldn’t be trying to push them together? And, if so, why?

  Nell shook her head at her own stupidity. So he’d have two parents instead of one, of course.

  But he had that now.

  Kal had made some reply to Patrick’s comment but Nell had missed it, and, thankfully Kal was now pointing out landmarks they were passing, probably to her as well as to Patrick, though she wasn’t listening. She was working again on sorting out a few priorities in her head. Number one was Patrick’s health. She’d have to speak to Kal again about the bone-marrow tests. Number two had always been Patrick’s emotional well-being—in fact, until he’d got sick that had been number one.

  And as he’d never had an on-the-spot father—he’d been too young to remember much of Garth being around—why should he want one now? Fathers were all well and good, and this father in particular would be very useful for Patrick to have in his teenage and young adult years, but a permanent fixture in both their lives? Nell couldn’t see that it was necessary at all.

  ‘They call this building the big rig,’ Kal was saying when Nell tuned back into the conversation. ‘People think at night, when it’s lit up as it is, it looks like one of the oil rigs out in the desert. Before oil was discovered, this was such a poor country the symbolism of the rig is very important.’

  He paused then he added, ‘To some.’

  ‘You don’t sound very certain about that,’ Nell said to him as they pulled up in a well-lit entry and an attendant appeared to open her door.

  ‘Oh, it’s been good for the people in many ways,’ Kal told her, remaining in his seat although the door on his side had also been opened. ‘The hospital is just one instance. But we’re losing so much of the old way of life. Patrick spoke of miniskirts. Our young girls are not going that far, but it is the loss of values that comes with change. That bothers me.’

  He got out, leaving the attendant to park the car, and joined Patrick and Nell on the pavement.

  ‘Values?’ Patrick queried, as they were walking through the foyer of the hotel. ‘What kind of values, Kal?’

  ‘Family values first and foremost,’ Kal told him, and Nell wondered if some of what she’d been thinking might have gone out in thought waves into his head. ‘It’s the structure of the family that has held my people…’ He punched Patrick lightly on the shoulder and amended, ‘Our people together. You will have heard tales of the male being the head of the household and as such entitled to respect, well, that is so, but it’s the women who have held the tribes together, who know all the family history. They know who’s related to who and how, and they teach the young children the importance of loyalty and honour and integrity because these are the things that helped the Bedouin tribes survive the hardships of the desert through thousands of generations. They allow we men to think we have the power, but in truth it is the women who run our lives.’

  ‘Same in our family,’ Patrick told him gloomily. ‘Gramps and I might have great ideas about weekends away—going off fishing for a few days—but he always has to ask Gran and I always have to ask Mum!’

  Kal laughed and put his arm around his son, and Nell, seeing the two heads so close together, felt her heart bump about in her chest. Kal was telling Patrick that wasn’t quite what he’d meant, but over his son’s head his eyes met hers, and the message in those eyes reignited the deep throb of desire she’d felt earlier.

  Forget it. With Patrick there, it was impossible to do anything about it—which was a good thing because seductively delicious sex with Kal would only weaken her defences against a man who was used to getting his own way.

  ‘We go up to the top floor,’ Kal was saying, but his eyes continued to tease hers, as if he knew exactly the effect he was having on her.

  The elevator took them swiftly upwards and spilled them out into a restaurant that looked out over the city to the south and darkness to the north. A bowing waiter led them to a table by a window, and Patrick, who’d at least seen something of the city that afternoon, now wanted some landmarks pointed out so he could get his bearings.

  ‘Wait!’ Kal said, settling opposite Nell and turning to the waiter to order drinks and a platter of finger food on which they could nibble while they decided on their meals.

  ‘Now, see the building with the blue light on the top?’ he said to Patrick. ‘That’s the hospital. This afternoon we drove from there down to the docks so if you look to the right you’ll see the lights along the darkness of the Gulf. That’s where cruise ships berth and container ships carrying foodstuff and goods. If you look further down there you’ll see the lights of the bunkers where the oil tankers take on their loads.’

  The waiter returned with a tray of different-coloured drinks.

  ‘So many!’ Nell gasped as the man unloaded the tray onto the table.

  ‘Different fruit juices and combinations of juices. I didn’t know what you and Patrick might like, so I ordered a selection.’

  He smiled—at her, not Patrick—and she felt again the shimmy of attraction in her skin and the heat of it warming her body.

  ‘This is one you should try. Persimmon juice.’

  He passed her the glass, his fingers brushing hers, oh, so casually, yet deliberately, Nell knew.

  He was seducing her right in front of their son!

  Why?

  To prove Patrick would be no barrier to their relationship?

  What relationship?

  Nell sipped her drink, only half listening to Patrick’s chatter as he tried different drinks, giving them marks out of ten for drinkability.

  The persimmon juice was both sweet and tart at the same time—not unlike the man who’d offered it—although it had been a long time since he’d been sweet to her.

  No, he’d been sweet today when she’d told him of the man’s death—

  ‘Did you do anything about an autopsy?’ she asked, pleased to have something to take her mind off obsessing over Kal.

  ‘Yuck, Mum! We’re out at dinner. No autopsy talk, OK?’

  Kal smiled at Patrick’s complaint but nodded to Nell.

  ‘It was being done this afternoon. Results will be on my desk in the morning—’

  He stopped suddenly and smiled at her.

  ‘Actually, they’ll be on my desk by the time we get back to the hospital. And since Patrick is obviously averse to such things, we could drop him back at the apartment then go across and take a look. You haven’t seen my office yet, have you?’

  Nell couldn’t believe this was happening! Oh, the conversation was OK—on the surface it all made perfect sense—but there was no way Kal was talking about autopsy results. He was teasing and tempting her—challenging her, in fact—to be alone with him. He’d been sending seductive vibrations her way since she’d turned up at his apartment door, and now he was upping the ante—offering a way they could do something about the attraction that was simmering between them, without in any way affecting or offending Patrick.

  ‘Here!’

  Now he’d lifted a small round ball of food and was offering it to her in his fingers, leaning across the table, his eyes holding hers.

  ‘Try it, Mum, it’s delicious. And after that you can try this little pastry thing. What’s its name again, Kal?’

  Kal replied to Patrick’s query but his eyes still held Nell’s, daring her not to take the food into her mouth. She opened her lips and his fingertips brushed against them, fanning the flames of desir
e she was feeling right through her body.

  ‘Great, isn’t it? I told Kal not to tell you if any of the things that went into the food were particularly gross, but he said most dishes are made of meat or beans or nuts, not sheep’s eyes and things like that.’

  ‘Sheep’s eyes?’ Nell echoed faintly, nausea easing a little of the desire. ‘Tell me I didn’t just eat a sheep’s eye.’

  Patrick laughed, but all Kal said was, ‘Would I do a thing like that to you?’

  I don’t know, Nell wanted to reply. You’re doing plenty of other stuff I’d rather you didn’t!

  But with her body feeling more alive than it had in years, she knew that wasn’t entirely true. She didn’t want Kal seducing her with his eyes, and his smile, and his tempting fingers, but that was because any kind of relationship between them would complicate things, not because she didn’t like what he did to her.

  Not only would it complicate things but she’d end up hurt. Losing Kal once had been bad enough—but to lose him twice? No, she couldn’t handle that.

  But he talked of marriage?

  Marriage without love, the hard-headed bit of her brain reminded her. He’d talked of love, too, and not with any affection for it or belief in it!

  ‘She might be asleep, sitting up with her eyes open!’

  Patrick’s comment made her realise she was missing something.

  Missing something? The evening was turning into a nightmare. She was eating food and sipping her drink while her mind argued about love relationships and her body hummed with…

  What?

  Lust, the hard-head offered, but surely it was more than that.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, finally responding to Patrick’s continued teasing. ‘I must be more tired than I thought. But I’m with you now. What were you talking about?’