Sheikh Surgeon, Surprise Bride

by Josie Metcalfe

  ‘Six months,’ he said quietly, and even behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses she could see that he was watching her startled reaction.

  ‘Six?’ she repeated faintly, for a moment unable to untangle the logistics.

  ‘We had different mothers,’ he said, just as she’d come to that conclusion by a process of deduction. ‘Leila was our father’s second wife and died shortly after Karim was born…possibly of some form of post-partum sepsis, reading between the lines, but these things are not discussed with the men of the family, even if they’ve become doctors. Thankfully, such things are rare these days. We have a programme of tuition for the traditional healers in the more remote regions so that their patients can have the best of both systems…the village midwife to attend them for straightforward deliveries and hospital treatment available in case of complications.’

  One part of her brain was absorbing the information about his country’s health-care system while the other part was still reeling with aftershocks from his unexpected revelation. She’d known that for many countries in this part of the world plural marriages were not only legal but the accepted norm.

  ‘You find the idea repugnant?’ he asked, and she was glad that the car was once more in motion and his eyes no longer tracking her every expression.

  ‘Not repugnant in essence,’ she said slowly, as she sifted through her chaotic thoughts and feelings. ‘If it’s a traditional part of a culture that both the men and the women are happy with, then my opinions are meaningless.’

  ‘But?’ he prompted, as though he knew without doubt that there was more. Sometimes she really did believe that he could read her mind.

  ‘But it wouldn’t work for me,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Because?’ He really wasn’t going to let this go, was he?

  ‘Because, if…when I marry, it will be my first and last time and I will put everything of myself into that relationship with nothing left to share with anyone else. I will expect my husband to be prepared to put exactly the same degree of commitment into our union or there will be no marriage.’

  ‘So certain and so adamant,’ he murmured, as he made the final turn into the hospital grounds before veering onto something that was little more than an unmade track that led around to the rear of the imposing building.

  ‘You disagree?’ she challenged, with a sudden feeling of disappointment and a realisation of just how little she knew about this man. ‘You would prefer to have several wives at your beck and call?’

  ‘In a way, the idea is attractive,’ he said in a musing tone. ‘Imagine having four wives, each vying to please me the most. But, on the other hand, imagine having four mothers-in-law.’ He gave a theatrical shudder. ‘Uh-uh! Not for me, thanks!’

  She saw him throw her a sideways glance as though he was assessing her response and deliberately tried to keep her expression neutral. He’d made a joke of it but there was a profound principle at the heart if it.

  The silence stretched for several heartbeats as he parked and switched off the engine, then he turned towards her and took his sunglasses off to fix her with a totally serious gaze.

  ‘All joking aside, when I get married, I too would want it to be for life to a woman who loves me as much as I love her. One wife, one marriage.’

  And if she hadn’t been sitting down she would have melted into a puddle at his feet with the effect of the sincerity in those dark eyes. As it was, she was in danger of hyperventilating as she imagined being the focus of that intensity for the rest of her life and didn’t even notice that he’d left the vehicle and walked around to open the door for her until she nearly fell out of the car.

  ‘Sorry…must have dozed off for a second,’ she mumbled as she scrambled to her feet. ‘What exactly are we doing here?’ Had they travelled thousands of miles only to replace one building site with another?

  ‘This,’ he said, with a wide gesture of one shirt-clad arm, ‘will eventually be a specialist orthopaedic surgery department. Right from the first day it will be run so that all the surgeons who work here will make the most effective use of their time by utilising two theatres in series.’

  ‘Exactly the same as you’re going to do as soon as our new theatre suite is finished,’ she said with a grin. ‘How many theatres will there be in total? How many surgeons will the hospital have on staff and what about the anaesthetists and the other theatre staff and—?’

  She hadn’t even finished asking her questions let alone given him a chance to answer before a gentleman with a builder’s hard hat shouted across to them and beckoned.

  The next hour was fascinating as the architect showed her the blueprints for the facility he called Razak’s baby, at the same time as he reassured the man himself that everything was proceeding to plan.

  ‘In fact, if work continues at this pace, there is even a chance that it will be completed early,’ he said with a broad grin lifting the ends of his impressive moustache. ‘So many of the men working on it have relatives who need to come here for operations that they can’t wait to see it finished. Some of them are even volunteering to work overtime for the basic rate of pay!’

  Their progress meeting over, Razak led the way into the cardiac unit to visit his father again before he returned home.

  ‘Come in! Come in!’ He beckoned when Lily remained outside to give the two men some privacy. ‘You are a doctor, too? Yes?’

  ‘Yes, sir. An orthopaedic surgeon, like your son,’ she explained, but he waved that aside.

  ‘But you know how to read a patient’s chart,’ he demanded with a touch of impatience.

  ‘Of course, sir,’ she agreed, wondering exactly where he was going with this. ‘We all have to be able to do that.’

  ‘Even orthopaedic surgeons?’

  ‘Even orthopaedic surgeons, yes.’

  ‘Then can you tell me why my son is unable to read my chart to tell me whether my operation has been a success and how long I have to stay in here before I can go home again?’

  ‘Father…!’ Razak said in a warning tone, but Lily didn’t need him to intervene. After so many years of medical training she had some of her answers off pat, having heard the questions so many times.

  ‘Of course I can tell you why,’ she replied smartly, even as she silently applauded the wily old man for his attempt at manipulating both of them.

  ‘You can?’ he said slightly taken aback. ‘Then why?’

  ‘It’s only a couple of little things called professional courtesy and medical ethics. Not terribly important to some people, but they help to keep the rest of us on the straight and narrow.’

  Razak burst out laughing at his father’s disgusted expression. ‘I think you’ve met your match,’ he said. ‘You’re just going to have to be patient.’

  ‘But you come home so rarely these days, and I am not there to see you,’ he complained, holding out his hand towards his son.

  Lily felt her eyes grow moist when she saw the careful way Razak cradled his father’s hand between his own.

  ‘Don’t you try using emotional blackmail on me,’ he chided gently. ‘This visit is just a bonus. If you hadn’t needed to come into hospital, you probably wouldn’t have seen me at all until I finished my contract in England. The new theatre suite there is almost finished and within the next couple of weeks Jazz and I will be operating in it, using the new system.’

  ‘This is good, my son. You will need the experience if you are to be able to take on…Jazz?’ he echoed with a frown as the nickname registered. ‘But you told me the young lady’s name is Lily.’

  ‘It’s because of the music,’ Lily said hastily, suddenly uncomfortable with the idea that Razak might mention the more intimate reason he’d given her the nickname. ‘When we’re operating, we take it in turns to choose the music that’s playing.’

  ‘And you choose jazz,’ he said with a smile of comprehension.

  ‘And sometimes blues, especially on the saxophone,’ she added. ‘I find it helps me to concentrate�
��not be distracted by the other things that are going on around me in the operating theatre.’

  She was uncomfortably aware that she’d begun to babble, but his eyes were so like his son’s and it was almost as if he knew that she was having to fight her need to look at the man standing so close beside her. She could feel the warmth of his body through the fine fabric of her sleeve and smell the fresh clean scent of soap from his skin and all she could think about was the way that heavy silk robe had flowed over him to tell her that he was completely naked underneath it.

  ‘I like you,’ the old man said suddenly. ‘Come back and visit me again, if you want to.’

  ‘I would like that,’ she said. ‘But I don’t know how much time we’ll have as Razak has brought a great deal of paperwork with him to do with the new system he’s introducing.’

  ‘So, come without him,’ he suggested, and it was almost a challenge, as if he was testing her nerve.

  ‘I will,’ she said, and this time didn’t bother trying to hide her smile, letting him know that she’d accepted the challenge.

  A nurse bustled in, pushing a drugs trolley that could have been the twin of the one in their own surgical wards, and Razak took advantage of the interruption to take their leave.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jazz, but by the time we drive home, we will be too late to join the family for the midday meal,’ he apologized, as he led the way back out into the enervating heat to go to the car. ‘Would you like to get something to eat in a restaurant? You have seen nothing of the city yet.’

  Lily certainly wasn’t sorry to have missed another chance to be glared at by Razak’s mother. His father had been far more welcoming.

  ‘Is it all right…?’ She hesitated, not wanting to cause offence. ‘Is it permissible for the two of us to have a meal together…in public? It won’t cause a problem…a scandal for your family?’

  ‘Not so long ago, it might have,’ he agreed, gesturing for her to wait a moment or two for the air-conditioning in the car to lower the temperature before she got in. ‘But these days a substantial part of the country’s income is from tourism, so this has had to change. Still, the traditionalists appreciate it when people avoid…flaunting? No, this is not exactly…’

  ‘You mean, when people avoid showing too much flesh in public—stick to long sleeves, for example,’ she said, with a gesture towards her own attire as they settled themselves on the smooth leather seats. ‘But that is just plain common sense for someone with skin as pale as mine.’

  For just a second it was almost as if she could feel the touch of his eyes on the triangle of skin exposed at her throat before he replaced the sunglasses he’d taken off as he’d got into the car.

  ‘Exactly,’ he said in a voice that sounded slightly huskier than usual, then cleared his throat. ‘But that doesn’t answer the question of whether you would like to have a meal before we go back. I will even take you on a short guided tour of our fair city.’

  Lily’s spirits rose at the thought that their time together wasn’t over yet, but when she tried to imagine herself walking around in this sort of heat she just couldn’t face it.

  ‘I’m sorry, but it’s just too hot for sightseeing. I’m not used to this heat and—’

  ‘Forgive me for my thoughtlessness,’ he interrupted swiftly. ‘And I was forgetting how tired you must be. Of course we must return straight away.’

  He set the car in motion and when he made no attempt to speak, not even to discuss the project they’d just visited, Lily was left feeling that she had disappointed him in some way.

  ‘I’ll speak to him later,’ she said aloud in the seclusion of her own private bathroom as the tepid water refreshed her sticky body. ‘I’ll tell him that I would have loved to go with him…’ A giant yawn threatened to drown her and she gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘Sleep, woman!’ she ordered herself as she shut off the tap. ‘Maybe your brain will work better then.’

  Razak felt uncomfortably like a voyeur as he stood in the darkness outside Lily’s room the following night.

  He’d just wasted his time having another cold shower and had been about to try to catch up on some sleep when he’d realised he still hadn’t told her about the door that led from her room out into the atrium. He should have told her yesterday, when he’d shown her to the room, but every logical thought had gone out of his head when he’d seen her smiling at the birds’ aerial acrobatics.

  The building was far too old and vast to make installing air-conditioning feasible so the family still relied on the centuries-old methods of circulating the air cooled by the shade of the colonnade and the nearby expanse of water by opening their doors and windows. As an experiment, they’d replaced some of the old pierced screens with gauzy curtains that not only preserved their privacy and helped to keep out flying insects but also allowed more light into the rooms.

  He’d donned his robe and stepped out of his door to make the short journey along the colonnade to her room, but when he’d tapped on the glass there had been no answer.

  All he’d intended had been to open the door enough to allow a cooling breeze to flow into her room but when the edge of the curtain had fluttered aside for a second he’d caught sight of her lying in the middle of the enormous bed and hadn’t been able to look away.

  In all the weeks he’d known her he’d never seen her with her hair loose about her shoulders this way. He could only guess exactly how long it was and how soft it would feel between his fingers.

  And her skin…

  He clenched his hands tightly to try to dampen the tingling as he imagined touching and stroking and exploring to discover if it was as silky as it looked. The colour was almost unearthly in the moonlight reflected into the room by the water outside, with the ivory luminosity of the rarest of pearls. He could imagine all too easily what her skin would look like beside his, the colour combination very like her favourite crème brûlée dessert.

  A sudden sound had his head whipping around to find his brother standing in his open doorway, watching.

  Even as he stepped back from Lily’s room he saw Karim begin to shake his head in a chiding way but with a devilish light in his eyes.

  ‘What do you want?’ Razak growled, as he stepped back into his own room, guilt making him abrupt.

  ‘I am the bearer of news, both good and bad, big brother,’ Karim said, with his hands held up defensively. ‘Which order would you prefer them?’

  There was something in Karim’s eyes that made his stomach clench, but he’d never considered himself a coward.

  ‘The bad news first,’ he said, and braced himself. As long as his father wasn’t any worse…

  ‘You were seen in Lily’s room yesterday morning.’

  ‘Of course I was. I showed her to the room soon after we arrived and—’

  ‘Kissing her,’ Karim added pointedly, and Razak closed his eyes, grimly remembering the curtain he’d seen moving on the other side of the atrium. He’d been so distracted by her presence in his childhood home that he’d completely forgotten just how many pairs of eyes there were about the place.

  ‘And?’ He drew in a deep breath, knowing the worst was still to come.

  ‘Mother-dear knows and is incandescent with rage against the foreigner who brings her blatant sinful ways to seduce you from your honour and your duty.’

  Razak sighed heavily with the weight of unwanted responsibility. ‘And yet there is good news, too?’

  ‘Always, even in the darkest hour,’ his brother reminded him softly. ‘And this is the news that Father is progressing even better than expected since you came home. In fact, his surgeon is saying that it is possible he may be allowed home in a matter of days and definitely before the end of the week.’

  ‘That is good news,’ Razak said with a surge of relief and joy. As a doctor he knew how dreadful patients could look soon after surgery, but he’d been shocked by just how much weaker and older his father had suddenly seemed since the last time he’d seen him.

  Se
eing him lying helpless in that hospital bed hooked up to all those monitors had brought it home to him more forcefully than ever before that the man who had given him life would not survive for ever.

  In the meantime…

  In the meantime, there were decisions that had to be made, things that had been done many years ago that needed to be unravelled, no matter how angry it made his mother…

  ‘Such deep thoughts,’ Karim mocked gently.

  ‘And so little time left in which to think them,’ Razak countered. ‘Have you thought any more about—?’

  ‘I have thought about little else,’ his brother interrupted hotly. ‘I never dreamed that you would contemplate breaking an alliance of such long standing. Can you imagine the scandal?’

  ‘It would be more scandalous if we were to go ahead, especially as we have always known that it is not what either of us wanted…and more especially so if you are now contemplating…shall we call it a substitution?’

  ‘More than contemplating,’ Karim said firmly, a new resolution to the angle of his head as he met his brother’s gaze. ‘If you are serious in your intention to revoke…?’

  ‘I am serious,’ Razak said, filled with sudden certainty. ‘I know it will cause uproar, but hopefully you will be able to deflect that fairly swiftly with an announcement of your own. You are, after all, the politician in the family.’

  ‘And?’ Karim questioned with a tilt of his head in the direction of Lily’s room through the adjoining wall.

  ‘And…it is probably much too soon for her to know but, as far as I am concerned, there is no question.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LILY pressed back against the ancient wall, hoping that she would be invisible in the deep shadows of the colonnade if anyone else ventured out.

  She had no idea what had woken her—possibly the sound of Razak’s voice through the open door that led out to the atrium, although she hadn’t realised that it was open until she saw the filmy curtain billowing gently and had no memory of opening it.