by Leah Leonard
“That’s him, right?” Maureen asked.
“Yep.”
She shook her head. “Men. They’re all alike.”
“Yes, they are, aren’t they?”
She read further, and according to the story, the reporter made mention of the ongoing parties and gatherings at the house, the long line of women he took there. The following page was filled with photos of Ghazi with different girls. He obviously lured them to his home for occasions like the one Sarah found herself in yesterday.
A swim and a romp in the bedroom was obviously all Ghazi cared about. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over, wilting the newsprint. Her hands trembled. She turned toward the window so Maureen wouldn’t notice her. She didn’t want to talk about Ghazi Deniz anymore, not now, not ever. The feeling of being okay with what happened last night was quickly disappearing, but she had to let it go. What’s done was done. Nothing she could do about that now. Damn him!
She wanted to rip the magazine to shreds, but instead stuffed it into her bag where she could temporarily get the disturbing photos out of her sight, but not out of her mind. She would likely relapse over the next couple days because she couldn’t help running this mess over and over in her mind. No matter what, she had to remember this man was a liar and a cheat. She could not allow herself to fall into his trap or buy his persuasive arguments any more. Truth be told, she would probably never see him again anyway, although part of her still held on to the fantasy that he might actually care and come after her, apologize and try to sweep her into his arms once she arrived in Istanbul. She had to remember though that he could not be trusted. Not now. Not ever. If she needed further reminders, she could always pull the paper out and read it in black and white.
More than anything, she was angry with herself. She realized all along what Ghazi was like. When they met years before, she knew all about him then too. She witnessed all the girls back in high school throwing themselves at him years ago and told herself she would not allow him to affect her this way, but now look what happened. She had nobody to blame but herself. She tried to convince herself that she could handle this, but the cold hard fact was she couldn't. Ghazi was just like all men. No, worse. She surrendered her virginity and most likely he didn't care. Of course he hadn't known, but even if he had, judging from the tabloid photos, he wouldn't give that a second thought.
How could she have been so stupid? So gullible? Not for bedding him and enjoying herself, but for giving the most sacred part of herself to someone who slept with so many others?
She ran through that sickening scenario in her mind and could hardly stand to think of how many other women had been in that same bed where such a sacred act took place. Still, even though he was a womanizing man whore, whose fault was this really? Hers, she told herself. She wanted to be in control of the situation. She allowed him to make love to her. Love. Yeah right!
She wanted to think his balmy gazes were filled with more than lust, but based on the magazine article and that horrible woman who showed up at his house, he'd had plenty of practice making women believe he cared.
The more she thought about what happened, the more angered she became. She would work through her enraged feelings and would eventually come to realize she had bedded the most eligible bachelor in Turkey, and despite her feelings for him, she enjoyed it. She would not marry him, He would not father her children and live contentedly with her for some happily ever after ending like she saw in the movies, but again, that was her decision.
When she did run into Mr. Right at some point in her future, this situation would make her stronger, she was sure of it. Plus, what was the likelihood of any man being a virgin? At some point in the future, Sarah now felt certain that this happened for some reason. She could move on with her life as an empowered and experienced woman, jaded by the hard reality that men could not be trusted. Especially men like Ghazi Deniz.
No more crying about leaving, no more tears. She discreetly dabbed her final tears on her sleeve, keeping her face turned toward the window.
Fortunately Maureen was busy chattering away with some of the other people across the aisle.
Sarah threw her shoulders back and took a deep breath. No more feeling sorry for herself. Ghazi was likely out on the town living it up by now. She promised herself she would no longer blame Ghazi, nor would she give him a second thought.
Still feeling vulnerable despite her new internal empowerment, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window, pretending to sleep, hoping Maureen wouldn’t say anything to her that would cause her to burst into tears.
Releasing the energy of Ghazi and this situation made Sarah feel better. She tried focusing on the next few months, all the sites she would see, the experiences of a lifetime she would create. To think of the rich wealth of knowledge she would bring to her students someday made her smile. Yes, Turkey would be a time and a trip she would never forget.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ghazi remained calm despite the fact that his grandfather had gone completely unconscious. Thankfully, the Sultan’s driver was still at the house.
The two men lifted the aged man into the limo, Ghazi sat by his side as they rushed the Sultan down the mountain where a medical team met them by the airstrip where they kept their private jet. The Sultan would need to be taken to Istanbul where he could receive the best care.
He only hoped he would survive the trip down the mountain where the medical staff stood by, and fortunately he did.
Ambulances and emergency crew swarmed the limo when they arrived. After a few minutes of working on the Sultan, they stabilized him while Ghazi had his crew prepare the jet.
He brought several key members of the medical team with them on the flight, as money was no obstacle. This was a nightmare of epic magnitude. “I will not lose this man. You will do everything in your power to keep him alive and get him to the city. Understood?”
“Of course, Sheikh. Absolutely, sir,” they echoed.
Only the best for a Deniz. Despite the fact they had every possible advantage at their disposal, the Sultan never regained consciousness and Ghazi feared he might not make it to the hospital. The flight was rather long. Sadly, over the past few years he had learned that life was fragile and there was no counting on good outcomes in situations like these. He prayed his grandfather would live. He had to.
He felt terrible about everything he did the past few days and weeks since his father's death. He had given his grandfather a hard time about everything, when all the old man tried to do was help him. Had he not been out with those models, the Sultan would never have gotten so upset and demanded he marry. He likely caused this! What a horrible burden to bear!
Had he done more due diligence where Sarah was concerned, he would have known she was unspoiled and could have…oh he didn't know! The thoughts crowded his mind. He handled things the way he always did - without emotion. Now his entire universe was crashing down around him and no amount of money or power could rectify the wrongs he caused.
No doubt, now his grandfather was ill, he couldn't help but think he was more than a little to blame. The Sultan's heart had long been broken by Ghazi's father, but lately his behavior had not contributed to the old man's happiness at all. Despite his vow to never marry, at this moment, if it would make the old man well again, Ghazi would marry. He would do anything to make his grandfather happy. Plenty of wealthy people married without love. Ghazi would consider it if the Sultan insisted. The moment he regained consciousness, he would fix this issue.
Then his mind turned to Sarah. If he had to marry, she would be the perfect bride, if for no other reason than what happened between them last night. He had no time to think of her now though, especially with the Sultan fighting for his life. Once his grandfather was stable, Ghazi could find Sarah, bring her back to his Istanbul home to begin formally courting her. Surely the Sultan would be happy about that.
The plane landed at the airport where the Deniz helicopter waited to fly them
to the best hospital in the city. They landed on the roof, unloaded the Sultan and Ghazi ran behind the stretcher as the Sultan was wheeled into a private fully staffed Emergency Room.
A group of nurses stopped their whispering and turned smiling at him when he arrived. "Hello, Ghazi," one of them batted her eyes.
He faintly remembered her, but from where? There was no telling. Probably another wild night on the town, exactly the kind of thing his grandfather detested.
He turned toward the nurse just long enough for the medical team to race out in front of him and wheel his grandfather through two double doors. When Ghazi approached, they were locked. He jerked them forcefully, but they wouldn’t budge. He had no access to the area. "I need someone to open these doors. Now! I must see Sultan Deniz."
“I’m sorry, Ghazi,” the flirtatious nurse said. “We can’t allow anyone back there while the doctors are working. Take a seat.”
“I demand access!” Ghazi shouted.
“Again, I’m sorry,” she placed her arm on his shoulder. “Please go over there and we’ll let you know when you can see him. I promise he’s in good hands. It’s better for everyone. Go, sit.”
Ghazi didn’t take orders from anyone, but the look on the nurse’s face made him realize that no matter how powerful he was on the negotiation table or in the bedroom or anywhere else in his life, in this situation, he had to back down.
He waited for nearly an hour, then approached the nurses’ station. “I am a patient man, however I want to see my grandfather.”
The nurse checked with some of the doctors, read over his files, then told him, “You can see him now.” She released the lock on the doors.
Ghazi ran down the hall and stopped short of entering his grandfather's room, which was filled with doctors.
The Sultan lay in a hospital gown, eyes closed. His brown skin paled under the florescent light. The faint repetitive beeping sound filled the air. "How is he?"
The doctor turned to him. "Stable. We got his blood pressure under control, and for now, he's out of the woods."
"What do you mean for now?" Ghazi demanded.
Cracking open his eyes, the Sultan said, "I'm fine."
The doctor and the Sultan shared a meaningful glance that didn’t go unnoticed by Ghazi. "What aren't you telling me?"
Silence filled the room.
Ghazi’s pulse quickened. He couldn't face the thought of losing his only living relation, and what infuriated him all the more was the fact that Sarah was still out there someplace and he would not be able to fix things with her. That was bad enough, but what was worse was the simple fact that he cared at all. Why should he? She didn't care for him, or if she did, she had a funny way of showing it. There was no telling where she might have run off to, but for now, he would be forced to table his quest to find her. His previous concerns about the part he played in her disappearance were replaced by mixed feelings of anger and betrayal. Logically he knew Sarah had nothing to do with any of this, but Ghazi needed her here, with him, but she was nowhere to be found. Forget her, he told himself. Now, the Sultan was his number one concern. He had to be. Family was all that mattered in times like these.
"Your grandfather had a mild heart attack," the doctor told him.
"Do not worry him," the Sultan said. "I am fine."
"His major valve is weak, he has some blockage in the aortic chamber."
Ghazi's pulse quickened. "What does this mean?"
"I said I'm fine," the Sultan repeated.
"Let the doctor speak, grandpapa. Please."
"We keep him for observation for a few days."
"Doesn't he need surgery?"
"No," the Sultan demanded. I want to go home."
"Grandpapa, you will stay here and do as your doctors tell you." Now was not the time for the Deniz stubbornness to kick in. Ghazi turned to the doctor. "Doesn't a blockage mean surgery will remedy this?"
The doctor stood still, mouth closed and stared at the Sultan.
"I am speaking to you," Ghazi waved a hand in front of the doctor's face.
"Ghazi, they are taking good care of me," the Sultan said.
"May we speak in the hall?" Ghazi asked the doctor.
"Certainly."
The Sultan coughed. "Do not worry him, doctor. Assure him I am all right."
Ghazi pulled the doctor by the arm and led him into the hall outside the room. “I’m no expert, but if he had a heart attack, shouldn't he undergo a procedure to solve the problem? Particularly for a blockage?"
The doctor glanced over his shoulder and into the room.
Ghazi turned around in time to see the Sultan shaking his head at the doctor as if the two were in some kind of secret communication with each other. "Listen. I am in charge of my grandfather's care and I am demanding you do whatever needs to be done in order to get him back on his feet as soon as possible, even if it means surgery, and even if he refuses. Am I making myself clear? Money is no object. I want the best doctors in Turkey assembled as quickly as possible. Schedule the surgery for the first available slot. I am willing to pay to be moved to the top of your list. Name your price. Understood?"
"Yes," the doctor said, still glancing over Ghazi's shoulder.
"Enough!" Ghazi pulled the doctor further down the hall so the Sultan was completely out of view. "Stop looking over there. Tell me, when can we get this done? After the surgery, what is his prognosis and what is your treatment plan?"
The doctor lowered his gaze.
"I demand answers." Ghazi clutched the doctor's arm, shaking it until he met his gaze. “Now!”
The doctor sighed. "I'm afraid surgery isn't an option."
"Why not?"
"There are some possible…complications that could arise."
"What are you talking about?" Ghazi wasn't prepared to consider any more complications in his life. Not today, not next week, not ever. He'd had enough difficulties in the past few hours to last him quite awhile. Nor was he prepared to see his grandfather, the man who had been more of a father to him than anyone in his life, lying helplessly in a bed, unable to move. "You have to save him! He must recover!"
"I understand your concerns, Sheikh," the doctor said. “Believe me, I do.”
"No, I am afraid you don't." Ghazi coughed back his emotion. "That man in there is my family, the only family I have left. You will do everything in your power to restore him to optimal health so we can go home and continue on with our business. Do it or else! Now get in there and fix him, understood?"
Enraged, Ghazi stormed down the hall to put some distance between him and the doctor for fear he might allow his emotions to get the better of him. He refused to hear the doctor’s miserable excuses and wanted to punch him in the nose and tell him to stop speaking to him about complications and what couldn’t be done. He wanted action and now! There was no way Ghazi would allow his grandfather to intimidate the doctors into foregoing any kind of treatment. He expected the Sultan to be restored to his full glory.
Ghazi walked back into the waiting room and stared out the window into a courtyard filled with trees.
What a mess things had become! The Sultan was right about one thing - family. That was all that mattered. Ghazi knew that now, and he would stand by the only family he had left, no matter what.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The bus arrived at Sarah’s new home away from home, a large dormitory. The one story accommodation had a main entrance with a brightly lit lobby that immediately split down two sides of a long hall filled with doorways to the student’s rooms.
Sarah followed Maureen to the very last door on the left of the right hand wing of the building.
Maureen babbled on the whole time, about what, Sarah had no clue. They stood outside their door and Maureen did the honors, turning the key in the lock. “Ready?”
“Yep,” Sarah said.
“Ta da!” Maureen swung the door open, revealing a stark and simple accommodation compared to the five star treatment Sarah had been r
eceiving since arriving in the country. Two single beds and a small dresser were pushed against the left hand wall, a sitting area with two chairs and a coffee table stood next to a small window overlooking a courtyard outside. She walked to the window, noticing the trees were even plain, a stark contrast to the crimson flowers covering the lobby of their last hotel.
"Not like the hotel, huh?" Maureen shrugged, "but pretty good considering we get to stay here the entire summer for free."
"True," Sarah agreed, realizing she'd allowed the Deniz clan to spoil her. Just a few days ago when she arrived, she planned on living sparsely in dormitories, yet now they paled in comparison to what she knew was possible. Still, she was grateful for the opportunity.
Now that they were back together again, Maureen started to really talk, telling Sarah all about her studies in her tiny hometown, but Sarah hardly heard a word. Her eyes fell to the newspaper lying on a table next to one of the chairs. Ghazi. There he was again. Billionaire Playboy extraordinaire. She wanted to forget all about this mess, but here it was again, all over town.
Crossing the room, Maureen snatched the paper up. "Oh…him again.” She shook her head. "Believe me, kiddo, you’re better off here. Men like that never change. You need to forget all about him.” Maureen tossed the paper in the trash.
“You’re right.” Sarah took the other copy out of her bag and tossed it in the garbage. “I won’t give him a second thought. I promise.”
