by Holly Rayner
Dr. Issa stepped forward with a soft smile. “It’s normal for you to be concerned, Dr. Green. After all, this is the start of many more worries you will have—all of them normal. This is part of motherhood.”
“But what can we do?” I asked urgently. “There has to be something else we can try to help this along.”
The doctor was thoughtfully silent before she spoke again. “How is your stress level?”
“Well, bad, obviously,” I half-laughed. “I’m stressing about not being pregnant already most of the time.”
“Certainly, but is there anything else weighing on you that you may not have considered yet? What about your duties to the palace?” she turned to look at Omar.
“The usual,” I said with a shrug. “I give His Highness and the Queen Regent a short exam each week—just the basics. One of the security staff has been ill lately, so I’ve been attending to him. He’s caught whatever bug it is that half of Al-Thakri have endured this spring.”
“Is he stable?”
“Oh, yes. It’s nothing life-threatening.”
“And is there anyone under your care that is in dire straits?”
“No, not at all,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s all very minor, as usual. Why do you ask?”
“Even so,” Dr. Issa said, “work can be a stressful activity that can prevent you from focusing on relaxation. Perhaps you should think about taking some time off and having His Highness hire another doctor to take over for you, at least through the conceiving stage, if not the entire pregnancy.”
I looked at Omar questioningly. We hadn’t talked about me quitting my duties since my decision to stay on and have his baby. But the look on his face was determined, and he was clearly taking Dr. Issa’s words to heart.
“She will take leave,” said Omar without hesitation, nodding at me. “I will hire another physician to be on-call in her stead. I’ll make the arrangements at once.”
“Are you sure?” I said to him in a quiet aside. “I hate the idea of not doing my job. That’s what I came here for, after all.”
“You are doing your job,” countered Omar. “You agreed to be the mother of my child. That is your most important job right now. There are other doctors in the city; let them deal with the minor scrapes of my staff.”
I felt a little uncertain about the decision. Being a doctor was all I knew—I hadn’t taken a break from it since I entered med school.
“I’m afraid,” I admitted to him. “Work has been my whole life up to now.”
“Well, now you have a different life,” said Omar softly. “At least for a little while. You deserve a break, Carrie. You’ve been working hard your whole life, saving others in war zones and the like. What could be wrong about taking a few months off to bring your own life into the world?”
“I agree with His Highness,” said Dr. Issa. “Your reputation precedes you, Dr. Green. I’ve heard of your work in Africa. No one would ever doubt your commitment to your duties, or how much you love your work. Everyone deserves a break once in a while.”
I took a deep breath. They were right. If my goal was to give Omar a healthy son who would take the throne one day, then I should do everything I could to make that happen, even if it meant taking a break from work.
“Okay,” I told them finally. “I’ll step down from my position, at least until the baby is born.”
“I think that is wise,” agreed Omar with a smile.
After a few more of my nervous questions, we left the OB/GYN’s and walked casually back toward Omar’s office, where he had more work to attend to.
Outside Omar’s office, Rafiq was in his usual protective spot. He gave me a sly glance when I passed him by. I returned it with a playfully sour one, but he only winked at me knowingly.
“Do you feel better?” asked Omar once we were alone. He poured us both a glass of pure spring water from one of the underground wells on the palace property, iced and garnished with cucumber.
I took a glass from him and nodded. “I do, in fact. Much better. Thank you for indulging my neurotic nature.”
“It’s nothing,” said Omar with a smile. “My only concern is you and your health.”
I blushed and looked away. “It’s not every day a girl gets to hear that from the ruler of a kingdom.”
Omar seemed suddenly nervous. He ran a hand through his thick black curls and cleared his throat. “So I will go about the work of finding you an immediate replacement on the staff.”
“That would be great. Do you need my help in the vetting process?”
“No, no,” laughed Omar. “We’re trying to get you away from work, remember?”
I turned red and laughed. “True. I guess I just hate not being able to help.”
“You are helping,” said Omar. “But my staff can handle the transfer. In the meantime, I’ll ask Dr. Issa if she’d be willing to pick up emergency duties in the palace grounds until your replacement is found.”
“That’s a good idea.”
He cleared his throat again, then looked away. “Since you’re no longer under my employ, there’s something else I wanted to ask you, Carrie.”
“Oh?” I asked, fidgeting with the telescope that was stationed by one of the office’s floor-to-ceiling windows. “What’s that?”
“I wondered if perhaps you would like to go on a date with me.”
I turned so fast, I knocked the telescope off its settings. Omar only laughed.
“You—you what?” I asked. “You want to go on a date? Like… a real date?”
“Yes, a real date.” I was sure I could see a red tint to his beautiful face.
“I… I had no idea you felt that way about me.”
My heart raced as Omar shrugged self-consciously. “It wasn’t exactly an easy topic to approach. You were my employee, after all, and with all this succession business… sometimes having power doesn’t actually provide one with the power he truly needs. The time was never right to ask. But now, I feel, is as good a time as any.”
I was breathless, my head swimming with happiness. “Omar, I would love to go on a date with you.”
He beamed and stood straighter, taking a few steps closer to me. “You would? Carrie, you don’t have to agree to this just because of the baby, you know. I fully understand that it’s not the same.”
“It’s not that,” I promised with a shake of my head. “I’ve wanted to go on a date with you for a while, too.”
Omar beamed. He picked up my hand and planted a sweet, long kiss on it. With the other, he pushed my hair out of my face and caressed my cheek. “I’ll arrange for us to have dinner in the gardens tonight. Would you like that?”
“That sounds perfect,” I whispered.
Omar grinned in a way that made my knees weak. He turned back to his desk for just a moment, rummaging in one of the drawers, until his hand emerged, holding a small velvet box.
“For you,” he said, holding the box out to me. “I got them for you the night after I asked you to carry my heir. I was going to save them for his birthday, but I think you should have them now.”
Stunned, I took the box and opened it gently. A pair of gold and ruby earrings glittered inside, looking very much like the cufflinks I had picked for Omar the night of his mother’s party.
“They remind me of fire—of you,” he added. “I want you to have them.”
“Omar,” I said softly, touching the earrings with my fingertip. “These are so beautiful. No one’s ever given me something like this before.”
“It is the first of many gifts,” he promised. “You’ll find I’m a bit of generous heart that way. I can’t help it.”
I felt like a school girl, the way I smiled back at him. My heart fluttered at the glittering in his eyes as he looked at me.
“Why don’t you head into town? Buy whatever you’d like to wear tonight. And anything else you want, especially for the baby. You should ask my mother about her favorite spa—she swears by its healing powers. Give yourself some
pampering. You deserve it.”
“Is that a royal decree?” I teased.
He pursed his lips in a playful smile. “If it must be, yes.”
“Well then, I wouldn’t want to disobey a king.”
“I’m only a sheikh, my dear.”
“Not for long, you aren’t.”
Chapter 8
Never in my life had I been so nervous getting ready for a date. I took Omar’s advice and spent most of the rest of the afternoon shopping in the luxurious downtown district of Al-Thakri’s capital, where the blistering desert heat was offset by shady green trees and giant misting fans to keep the shoppers cool. Queen Mirah made an appointment for me at her spa, and it was clear to me why she recommended it so highly. Even though I only got a few services, including a facial, a manicure and a massage, I felt like a queen myself by the time I left.
From the window of one of the boutiques, a soft flowing dress called my name. It was bold pink with a hem that fell just above the knee and a gorgeous layer of sheer fabric over the shoulders and back. After excitedly trying it on, I got the pink dress, along with some beautiful gold gladiator sandals with a tiny kitten heel, wondering vaguely when was the last time I had bought a piece of clothing that wasn’t purely functional.
Back at the palace, I took a relaxing bath before getting dressed. My nerves got worse with every passing hour and it took me more than a few tries to put on the sparkling ruby earrings Omar had gifted me. Once they were on, though, I was almost taken aback at my own reflection. They glittered like fire on either side of my face, lighting up my eyes.
Omar asked to meet me in the royal gardens, one of his favorite spots—and one of mine, truth be told. To have an oasis so deep in the desert sands meant a great deal to the culture of Al-Thakri, and that love and respect lived deep within Omar's blood. Every step I took down the palace hallways made my heart pound faster and faster.
Remembering what the doctors had said, I instinctively raised a hand to my belly and rubbed gently, concerned. I slowed my steps and took deep breaths to calm my racing heart, and it worked. By the time I arrived at the beautiful sandstone archway that led to the gardens, I was feeling much more like myself.
That only lasted for a few seconds, however—until I saw Omar, handsome and dashing in his casual white linens, waiting for me with a beaming smile. He had picked one of the tropical flowers from the garden and held it out to me as I approached.
Blushing deeply, I took the bloom and brought it to my nose. The scent was clean and sweet. “This is beautiful,” I said to him.
“As are you,” said Omar, eyeing my flowing pink sundress. “I don't think I've ever seen you wear something so bright before. It suits you.”
The feeling of his eyes wandering over my body made me flush anew. “There's not very much about a dress like this that says 'professional'. I never wanted to seem out of place in your entourage.”
“That's because you are a woman of integrity,” smiled Omar. He lifted his hand, beckoning silently for mine. I placed my hand in his and he brought it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on top. “It's part of what makes you so attractive to me.”
“Really?”
“Truly,” said Omar with a nod. “So few people live with integrity. That’s one truth you discover very quickly when you are born into power. Some people only care about themselves, or what they can scam out of a person. But you aren't like that, Carrie. You only care for how you can help people.”
I shrugged, my heart fluttering at this unexpected attention. “I don't know what to say. I just try to do the best I can with what I've got.”
Omar smiled at me, as if my response only proved his point. “Come,” he beckoned, offering his arm to me. It was the same gesture he made the night we arrived home from his mother's gala, and yet, this time, it felt so much more significant.
I slid my arm into his and he led us slowly through the stone walkways of the garden, pointing out some of his favorite flowers and teaching me their proper names. We were surrounded by blooms unlike any I had ever seen, save on exotic nature documentaries.
“Part of me never wants to leave this garden,” I said to him. “Something about this place just makes me relax.”
“Good,” replied Omar, squeezing my hand gently. “We need you relaxed. You shouldn't be concerning yourself with anything except taking care of yourself.”
“Well, that's a little hard for me,” I admitted with a sheepish laugh. “You may have noticed I'm a bit of a workaholic.”
Omar chuckled. “It had crossed my mind, yes. I saw the panic on your face when the doctors suggested you take some time off. After all, only a workaholic would accept a position like this in the first place, being on-call constantly for a royal family.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, blushing. “You got me there.”
“Saying that,” added Omar, “even though we've spent so many hours beside each other, there’s still so much I don't know about you, Carrie.”
“I guess getting to know each other is what we're supposed to do on a first date, right?” I said, and he grinned warmly. “I don't really know where to start. My family is a pretty typical Midwestern bunch. I've always been kind of a restless person. I drove my parents crazy when I was a kid, getting into trouble and refusing to be clamped down. They wanted me to be more like my older sister, who loved school and following the rules.”
“You mean you’ve experienced sibling rivalry as well?” laughed Omar with wide eyes. “I suppose that makes watching this nonsense with Sajid much more understandable.”
“Oh, yes,” I giggled, leaning my head towards him. “I understand completely. I'm just glad my sister and I never had a kingdom to fight over—we had a tough time just sharing the treehouse. I decided to go into medicine because I figured it would cure my restlessness with the crazy hours and the adrenaline that comes with saving lives. Signing up for Doctors Without Borders was always my goal. I knew I wanted to be out in the world where I could do good for the people who needed it most. And, selfishly, I knew I wanted to travel as much as I could.”
Omar's face lit up at that. “You love travel too?”
“More than almost anything,” I said.
“Me too,” replied Omar. “There are so many beautiful places on this planet. I remember my father taking Sajid and I on occasion when he would make diplomatic visits. Those are among my favorite childhood memories—when I was encouraged to take in the world around me in wonder. Father nurtured my curiosity; he wanted me to be excited about new cultures and places. He knew it would make me a more compassionate and informed ruler. It’s something I want to instill in our son.”
The memory was touching in ways I didn't expect. To hear Omar talk of what he wanted to give our son made my heart ache.
“That's beautiful,” I said quietly. “I wish everyone could travel. I think they would all get along much better once they realize everyone is just trying to make it the best they can, same as us.”
“I couldn't agree more,” said Omar.
“So why don't you travel more? We haven't had a single trip outside the kingdom since I've been here.”
Omar sighed, and I felt immediately guilty for turning the mood of the date. “Things have just been hectic since father's death.”
I gave his arm a gentle, loving squeeze and changed the subject as we rounded a corner and came upon a huge aviary tucked within the greenery. Exotic birds began to caw and flap their wings at the sight of us. One of them talked back to Omar when he spoke to it in Arabic, and he smiled at me, impressed with himself.
“Just like Doctor Doom,” he said.
I laughed. “What?”
“That character from your country that can speak to animals.”
“That's Doctor Dolittle,” I corrected with a teasing smile. “Doctor Doom is far less nice than him.”
“I did think that was a strange name for a veterinarian,” he laughed.
Omar led us through the aviary as we the conversat
ion moved to lighter fare. We discovered we had much more in common than might be expected of a sheikh and a western doctor. Both of us had grown up restless, taking part in sports and any activity we could be a part of to stave away the dreaded specter of boredom. We both had huge soft spots for animals, and cared passionately about the rights of the oppressed and the working class—something Omar had demonstrated many times in his official work for the kingdom.
I couldn't believe that my date with the Sheikh was swiftly becoming the most successful date I'd ever had. The chemistry we’d been fighting for so many months flowed out of us like a river in spring runoff, surging and full of life.
I realized how foolish I’d been to not see it before; Omar had been holding feelings for me just as long as I had held feelings for him. It was an endless relief to know I hadn't just been holding a candle in the dark, waiting for a day that was never going to come. All that time, Omar had been thinking about me, too. He had dreamed about me like I’d dreamed about him. And we were both so happy to finally come together and say it.
When we reached the garden's intricate fountain, there was already a table set out for us. A selection of Mediterranean delicacies had been spread out over pure white dishes; meats and cheeses, olives, figs, fresh-baked bread, grapes, and dipping oils beckoned to us. Two bottles of wine chilled in a silver, ice-filled bucket, and a small but decadent-looking chocolate cake waited enticingly under a glass dome.
“I know the doctors said to cut back on alcohol, but I figured since you’re not pregnant, a glass of wine might do wonders helping you relax,” said Omar as he lifted one of the bottles out of the ice bucket. “May I?”
“Please,” I said, grateful for the nerve-calming alcohol.
Dinner was a playful affair. Omar told me stories about growing up as a royal son, and I shared with him the gory details of working my way through college and medical school. For some reason, he was enchanted by my stories about growing up in boring old Ohio—stories I usually kept out of my repertoire because they were so mundane. But for someone who had grown up on the other side of the world, learning how to rule a country, hearing about carefree summers catching bullfrogs and climbing trees was like hearing a fairy tale.
