Engaged to the Doctor Sheikh

by Meredith Webber

  At times Lila wondered where all the time had gone, yet marvelled that her love and Tariq’s had never weakened, if anything growing stronger as they raised their family, and worked together at the hospital, Lila still doing the clinic runs, often taking the children with her so they got to know the tribal people and better understood their heritage.

  But today was Khalil’s day!

  He’d not only recovered but become a strong and handsome man, taking over as Sheikh when his father had died five years ago, and already reaping high praise for his leadership and wisdom.

  ‘Because of your stem cells,’ Tariq would tease her, but Lila believed it had been his own inner strength and courage that had pulled him through his illness, and those same qualities made him the great man he’d become.

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  Tariq’s voice still sent a shiver down her spine, and his touch, as he came up to stand beside her, sent a thrill through her blood.

  ‘Not regretting we didn’t have a grand wedding like this one?’

  She turned to him, kissing him lightly on the lips.

  ‘Not for one second,’ she assured him. ‘Our wedding was perfect, just like our life and our love.’

  ‘Perfect!’ Tariq echoed, putting his arms around her and holding her lightly in his arms. ‘As are you, my love.’

  ‘And you,’ she echoed, for just as they’d wished in the labyrinth all those years ago, their lives had been filled with happiness, their love growing deeper every year.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Meredith Webber

  A FOREVER FAMILY FOR THE ARMY DOC

  A SHEIKH TO CAPTURE HER HEART

  THE MAN SHE COULD NEVER FORGET

  THE ONE MAN TO HEAL HER

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MOMMY, NURSE...DUCHESS? by Kate Hardy.

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  Mommy, Nurse...Duchess?

  by Kate Hardy

  CHAPTER ONE

  Paddington Children’s Hospital

  THE REDBRICK BUILDING loomed before Leo in the street; the turret, with its green dome, reminded him so much of Florence that it was almost enough to make him miss Tuscany. Then again, London had felt more like home than Florence, ever since he’d first come to study medicine here as a teenager.

  As the car pulled to a halt, Leo could see Robyn Kelly waiting outside the hospital gates for him, her curly blonde hair gleaming brightly in the sun. When the Head of Surgery had asked him to come to Paddington to help out in the aftermath of the fire that had ripped through a local children’s school, of course he’d said yes. Robyn had taken him under her wing when he’d been on his first rotation and had been feeling just a little bit lost; back then, he’d appreciated her kindness. And he’d also appreciated the fact that she’d seen him as a doctor first and a duke second, treating him as part of the team rather than as a special case.

  This was his chance to pay just a little of that back.

  There was a small group of protestors standing outside the gate, holding placards: ‘Save Our Hospital’ and ‘Kids’ Health Not Wealth’.

  Which was one of the reasons why his contract was temporary: Paddington Children’s Hospital was under threat of closure, with a plan to merge the staff and patients with Riverside Hospital. Not because the one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old hospital wasn’t needed any more—the fact that the place was full to overflowing after the recent fire at Westbourne Grove Primary School proved just how much the hospital was needed—but because the Board of Governors had had a lucrative offer for the site. So, instead of keeping the hospital as an important part of the community, they planned to sell it so it could be turned into a block of posh apartments. The Board of Governors had already run staff numbers down in anticipation of the merger, to the point where everyone was struggling to cope.

  Leo’s lip curled. He’d grown up in a world where money didn’t just talk, it shouted, and that disgusted him. It was the main reason why he was drawn to philanthropic medicine now: so he could give some of that privilege back. So when Robyn had explained the situation at Paddington’s to him and said they needed someone with a high profile to come and work with them and get the hospital’s plight into international news, Leo had had no hesitation in agreeing. It was a chance to use the heritage he loathed for a good cause.

  Even though he knew the waiting photographers weren’t there to take pictures of the protestors, Leo intended to make quite sure that the protestors and the placards were in every single shot. The more publicity for this cause, the better. So, right at this moment, he was here in his role as the Duke of Calvanera rather than being plain Dr Marchetti. And that was why he was meeting Robyn outside the hospital gates in the middle of the morning, instead of being two hours into his shift. This was all about getting maximum publicity.

  He took a deep breath and opened the door of the sleek, black car.

  ‘Your Highness!’ one of the photographers called as Leo emerged from the car. ‘Over here!’

  Years of practice meant that it was easy enough for him to deflect the photographers with an awkward posture, until he reached Robyn and the protestors. Robyn had clearly primed the picket line, because they crowded behind him with their placards fully visible; there was no way that any photograph of his face wouldn’t contain at least a word or two from a placard. And then he shook Robyn’s hand, looked straight at the cameras and smiled as the bulbs flashed.

  ‘Is it true you’re coming to work here?’ one of the journalists called.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘Why Paddington?’ another called.

  ‘Because it’s important. The hospital has been here for a hundred and fifty years, looking after the children in the city. And it needs to stay here, instead of being merged with Riverside Hospital, outside the city,’ he answered.

  ‘Moving the patients to Riverside means the kids will have better facilities than at this old place,’ one of the journalists pointed out.

  ‘State of the art, you mean?’ Leo asked. ‘But when it comes to medicine, time’s the most important thing. You can have the most cutting edge equipment in the world—but if your patient doesn’t reach those facilities in time, all that fancy stuff isn’t going to be able to save a life. It’ll be too late.’

  The journalist went red and shuffled his feet.

  ‘You don’t need flashy equipment and modern buildings to be
a good hospital,’ Leo said. ‘You need to be accessible. What would’ve happened to the children of Westbourne Grove Primary School if Paddington had been closed? How many of them wouldn’t have made it to those lovely new buildings and all the state-of-the-art equipment at Riverside in time to be treated?’

  He was met with silence as the press clearly worked out the answer for themselves.

  ‘Exactly. And I’m very happy for you all to quote me saying that,’ he said softly. ‘Talk to these guys.’ He gestured to the protestors, knowing from Robyn that several of them had been treated here years ago and others had recently had their own children treated here. ‘Find out their stories. They’re much more interesting and much more important than I am.’

  ‘I think you made your point,’ Robyn said as they walked into the hospital together.

  ‘Good,’ Leo said as she led him in to the department where he was going to be working, ready to introduce him to everyone. ‘Paddington’s is an important facility. An outstanding facility. And I’ll do everything I can to help you publicise that.’

  * * *

  Rosie Hobbes stifled a cynical snort as she overheard the Duke of Calvanera’s comment. Who was he trying to kid? More like, he was trying to raise his own profile. Why would someone like him—a rich, powerful playboy—care about the fate of an old London hospital?

  She knew he’d agreed to come and help at Paddington’s because he’d trained with Robyn, years ago; but it was still pretty hard to believe that an actual duke would want to do a job like this. Who would want to work in a hospital that was currently full to the brim with patients but badly understaffed because the Board of Directors hadn’t replaced anyone who’d left, in line with their plan to move everyone out and sell the place?

  Especially a man who was so good-looking and seemed so charming.

  Rosie knew all about how charm and good looks could hide a rotten heart. Been there, done that, and her three-year-old twins were the ones who’d nearly paid the price.

  Thinking of the twins made her heart skip a beat, and she caught her breath. It had been just over a year now, and she still found panic coursing through her when she remembered that night. The threats. The dead look behind that man’s eyes. The way he’d looked at her children as if they were merely a means to getting what he wanted instead of seeing them as the precious lives they were.

  She dug her nails into her palms. Focus, Rosie, she told herself. Freddie and Lexi were absolutely fine. If there was any kind of problem with either of the twins, the hospital nursery school would’ve called her straight away. The place was completely secure; only the staff inside could open the door, and nobody could take a child without either being on the list as someone with permission to collect a child, or giving the emergency code word for any particular child. Michael was dead, so his associates couldn’t threaten the twins—or Rosie—any more. And right now she had a job to do.

  ‘Everything all right, Rosie?’ Robyn asked.

  ‘Sure,’ Rosie said. Her past was not going to interfere with her new life here. She was a survivor, not a victim.

  ‘I just wanted to introduce you to Leo,’ Robyn continued. ‘He’ll be working with us for the next couple of months.’

  Or until something even more high profile came along, Rosie thought. Maybe she was judging him unfairly but, in her experience, handsome playboys couldn’t be trusted.

  ‘Leo, this is Rosie Hobbes, one of our paediatric nurses. Rosie, this is Leo Marchetti,’ Robyn said.

  ‘Hello,’ Rosie said, and gave him a cool nod.

  He gave her the sexiest smile she’d ever seen, and his dark eyes glittered with interest. ‘Delighted to meet you, signora,’ he said.

  Rosie would just bet he’d practised that smile in front of the mirror. And he’d hammed up that Italian accent to make himself sound super-sexy; she was sure he hadn’t had an accent at all when he’d walked onto the ward with Robyn. She should just think herself lucky he hadn’t bowed and kissed her hand. Or was that going to be next?

  ‘Welcome to Paddington’s, Your Highness,’ she said.

  He gave her another of those super-charming smiles. ‘Here, I’m a doctor, not a duke. “Leo” will do just fine.’

  ‘Dr Marchetti,’ she said firmly, hoping she’d made it clear that she preferred to keep her work relationships very professional indeed. ‘Excuse me—I really need to review these charts following the ward round. Enjoy your first day at the Castle.’

  * * *

  The Castle? Was she making a pointed comment about where he came from? Leo wondered. But women weren’t usually sharp with him. They usually smiled back, responding to his warmth. He liked women—a lot—and they liked him. Why had Rosie Hobbes cut him dead? Had he done something to upset her?

  But he definitely hadn’t met her before. He would’ve remembered her—and not just because she was tall, curvy and pretty, with that striking copper hair in a tousled bob, and those vivid blue eyes. There was something challenging about Rosie. Something that made him want to get up close and personal with her and find out exactly what made her tick.

  She hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring. Not that that meant anything, nowadays. Was she single?

  And why was he wondering that in any case? He was here to do a job. Relationships weren’t on the agenda, especially with someone he worked with. He was supposed to be finding someone suited to his position: another European noble, or perhaps the heir to a business empire. And together they would continue the Marchetti dynasty by producing a son.

  Right now, he still couldn’t face that. He wasn’t ready to trap someone else in the castle where he’d grown up, lonely and miserable and desperate for his father’s approval—approval that his father had been quick to withhold if Leo did or said anything wrong. Though what was wrong one day was right on another. Leo had never been able to work out what his father actually wanted. All he’d known for sure was that he was a disappointment to the Duke.

  He shook himself. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. ‘Thank you,’ he said, giving Rosie his warmest smile just for the hell of it, and followed Robyn to be introduced to the rest of the staff on the ward.

  * * *

  Once Rosie had finished reviewing the charts and typing notes into the computer, she headed on to the ward. Hopefully Dr Marchetti would be on the next ward by now, meeting and greeting, and she could just get on with her job.

  Why had he rattled her so much? She wasn’t one to be bowled over and breathless just because a man was good-looking. Not any more. Leo had classic movie-star looks: tall, with dark eyes and short, neat dark hair. He was also charming and confident, and Rosie had learned the hard way that charm couldn’t be trusted. Her whirlwind marriage had turned into an emotional rollercoaster, and she’d promised herself never to make that mistake again. So, even if Leo Marchetti was good friends with their Head of Surgery, Rosie intended to keep him at a very professional distance.

  She dropped into one of the bays to check on Penelope Craig. Penny was one of their long-term patients, and the little girl had been admitted to try and get her heart failure under control after an infection had caused her condition to worsen.

  ‘How are you doing, Penny?’ Rosie asked.

  The little girl looked up from her drawing and gave her the sweetest, sweetest smile. ‘Nurse Rosie! I’m fine, thank you.’

  Rosie exchanged a glance with Julia, Penny’s mother. They both knew it wasn’t true, but Penny wasn’t a whiner. She’d become a firm favourite on the ward, always drawing special pictures and chattering about kittens and ballet. ‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘I just need to do—’

  ‘—my obs,’ Penny finished. ‘I know.’

  Rosie checked Penny’s pulse, temperature and oxygen sats. ‘That’s my girl. Oh, and I’ve got something for you.’ She reached into her pocket and br
ought out a sheet of stickers.

  ‘Kittens! I love kittens,’ Penny said with a beaming smile. ‘Thank you so much. Look, Mummy.’

  ‘They’re lovely,’ Julia said, but Rosie could see the strain and weariness behind her smile. She understood only too well how it felt to worry about your children; being helpless to do anything to fix the problems must be sheer hell.

  ‘Thank you, Rosie,’ Julia added.

  ‘Pleasure.’ Rosie winked at Penny. ‘Hopefully these new drugs will have you back on your feet soon.’ The little girl was desperate to be a ballerina, and wore a pink tutu even when she was bed-bound. And Rosie really, really hoped that the little girl would have time for her dreams to come true. ‘Call me if you need anything,’ Rosie added to Julia.

  ‘I will. Thanks.’

  Rosie checked on the rest of the children in her bay, and was writing up the notes when her colleague Kathleen came over to the desk.

  ‘So have you met the Duke, yet?’ Kathleen fanned herself. ‘Talk about film-star good looks.’

  Rosie rolled her eyes. ‘Handsome is as handsome does.’ And never again would she let a handsome, charming man treat her as a second-class citizen.

  ‘Give the guy a break,’ Kathleen said. ‘He seems a real sweetie. And his picture is already all over the Internet, with the “Save Our Hospital” placards in full view. I think Robyn’s right and he’s really going to help.’

  Rosie forced herself to smile. ‘Good.’

  Kathleen gave her a curious look. ‘Are you all right, Rosie?’

  ‘Sure. I had a bit of a broken night,’ Rosie fibbed. ‘Lexi had a bad dream and it was a while before I got back to sleep again.’

  ‘I really don’t know how you do it,’ Kathleen said. ‘It’s tough enough, being a single mum—but having twins must make it twice as hard.’

  ‘I get double the joy and double the love,’ Rosie said. ‘I wouldn’t miss a single minute. And my parents and my sister are great—I know I can call on them if I get stuck.’