by Amy Ruttan
She chuckled softly and kept that to herself.
Right now, there were patients waiting for help and that was all that mattered to her, but it was nice to have a little victory over the man who’d broken her heart.
A man who had ruined her for all others.
A man who still had a piece of her heart, whether she liked it or not.
* * *
The ride in the van was uncomfortable and tense. Maazin sat in the front next to Kariff while she and her team were crammed in beside medical equipment and gear. There would be another van coming soon to take the rest of the supplies and gear into Huban, but right now they were transporting what was most needed to the hardest hit region. That had been her plan. Get to work, help out and keep out of sight.
She might not really care about her father’s promise to Lady Meleena but she didn’t want the drama that would come with it.
The press didn’t know about Syman or her romance with Maazin and she preferred it that way.
The only reason she was here was to save lives.
As the van navigated the damaged streets of Huban, Jeena’s heart sank to see the destruction. The little wooden shacks of the poorest hadn’t fared as well as the colonial buildings that had been built by the British over a century ago.
There were downed power lines, crumbled stone and debris everywhere.
“Hold on,” Maazin said over his shoulder. “This part of Huban was flooded quite badly. The water has receded enough to allow passage, but it will be a bumpy ride.”
Jeena bit her lip. Her head began to spin and her pulse thundered in her ears. A panic attack was coming on and she needed to center herself. She needed to gain control, but it was hard. She didn’t like water too much. She was fine if she was on a large boat or had her feet firmly planted on the ground, but in a van going over a washed-out road, this she didn’t like.
And she closed her eyes and tried to not think about that time when she had been a young girl and she’d wandered too far from her parents’ home and down to the small creek that ran adjacent to the plantation.
She’d been playing in the water when it had begun to rain, but since there had been no lightning and it had been so hot and dry, Jeena had just stayed where she was and enjoyed not being hot for once.
It was then that a flash flood had ripped down the mountainside. She would have been swept away if she hadn’t gripped that low-growing palm. She’d held onto the trunk of that tree for what had felt like an eternity as the water had rushed past her, trying to snatch her away and wash her out to sea.
And she remembered the terror of it all.
The water that had rushed over her while she’d clung to life, while she’d tried to breathe and not take water into her lungs. The weariness of trying to stay afloat had begun to set in.
And then she remembered the strong arms of her father reaching down to pluck her from the swollen creek and into the safety of his arms.
She’d gotten into trouble, but not too much as her father had felt that she’d learned her lesson about doing dangerous things and not listening to them, but really she hadn’t learned her lesson. Not really.
And how had she repaid her parents?
She’d become involved with a prince of Kalyana, even though it was forbidden because he’d been destined to marry someone of his father’s choosing.
Her parents had got her out of the country to protect her. Lady Meleena had helped before’d she got engaged to Maazin a few years later. Her parents had lost everything.
They love Syman, though.
Still, she should’ve learned to curb her reckless ways that day she’d almost drowned and maybe then her parents would still be in Kalyana and she could’ve been here with the cyclone had hit and she could’ve been helping right from the start.
But you wouldn’t have Syman.
No. She wouldn’t have had Syman and for that she couldn’t regret her past mistakes. Even though she regretted everything about falling in love with a prince, there had been one bright spot to the whole thing and that was her son. And that thought made her feel guilty for wishing her mistakes away.
He was her world and she missed him. Especially at this moment when she could do with a smile and a hug. She really missed her son.
The van rocked, jolting thoughts of Syman out of her head. She gripped her seat as the van made its way through another washed-out section of the road. The rushing water caused the van to sway, but it wasn’t deep.
It was deep enough for Jeena’s pulse to thunder even more loudly in her ears and for beads of sweat to break across her brow. Her hands felt clammy as she dug her fingers into the upholstery of the seat.
She looked up and saw that Maazin was watching her in the rearview mirror. He looked concerned and she tried to shake it all off. The last thing she wanted was for Maazin to feel bad for her.
Or, worse, think that she couldn’t handle this, because she could.
Jeena looked away and the van carefully made its way through the water and back onto dry road as they made their way out of the capital city of Huban. Jeena took a deep breath of relief and glanced out of the window. She could see the palace rising in the distance. It had sustained some damage, but it still stood there, like a rock, reminding all the people of Kalyana that the country was still strong.
And a blowhard loud-mouthed king ruling them.
Well, not really. King Uttam might not be her favorite person in the world, but he wasn’t a terrible king. He was a fair ruler.
And she saw a lot of his stubbornness in Syman. When Syman set his mind to something, there was no convincing him otherwise. It made her laugh from time to time. At least Syman was strong.
He had a strong personality. One she hadn’t had until she’d had him and had worked her way through medical school.
“We’re nearly at the hospital,” Maazin announced.
Jeena didn’t respond. She just looked out the window toward the Indian Ocean, remembering precious days gone by and how it was all her fault that her son couldn’t enjoy this with her.
* * *
Maazin watched Jeena as she and her team had a quick meeting and then started to move around the makeshift hospital that was set up in an old shanty town, or what was left of a shanty town now that it had been leveled.
Something had bothered Jeena in the van when they’d crossed through that water and he couldn’t help but wonder what.
It’s not your concern.
And it wasn’t. She wasn’t his and could never be his.
Still, he was drawn to her and he was worried that something had happened to her and he felt responsible.
“You all right?”
Maazin turned to see Farhan standing beside him. Farhan looked exhausted and Maazin couldn’t blame him. He and Sara had been working hard to help since the storm had started. Farhan hadn’t been here when Maazin and Jeena had had their torrid and short love affair.
So there was no need to explain it all now.
It was over.
And it wasn’t Farhan’s business.
It was Maazin’s pain to bear.
“Nothing, just...” Maazin scrubbed a hand across his face. “Tired and relieved that help is here.”
Farhan nodded. “So am I. Sara has been working herself to the bone and she needs her rest.”
“Take her back to Huban and get rest. I’m going to stay and help the Canadians and help Kariff unload the medical supplies.”
“You should rest too,” Farhan suggested. “You’ve been working non-stop since even before the cyclone hit.”
“What for? I have no wife and I like to keep busy.”
“You’re going to work yourself into an early grave, brother.” Farhan turned and left and Maazin let out a breath that he hadn’t even known that he was holding.
He glanced back over his shoulder to s
ee Jeena sitting next to a patient’s bed and talking with the elderly woman, who seemed to recognize her.
Why had Jeena left?
“She’s left,” his mother said with finality.
“What?” Maazin asked, stunned.
“Your paramour. She is gone. Now you can do the duty we all must, and marry someone of the lineage to be your bride.”
“I don’t believe you,” Maazin said hotly. “Jeena would never do that.”
His mother walked calmly over to her desk and pulled out a letter, handing it to him. It looked like Jeena’s handwriting.
His mother held it out to him between two fingers. “Read it.”
Maazin snatched the letter from his mother and quickly read the letter. It didn’t sound like Jeena, but it was her writing.
“Where did you get this?”
“Meleena found it.”
“Why would Meleena find it?” he asked.
“Her father has invested in the Harrak plantation and she’s trying to prevent a scandal for a family her father supports.”
Maazin read the letter again and couldn’t believe it.
It stated that she was leaving him because she couldn’t stand being linked to a prince who had a checkered past full of women and gambling. Even though she knew those things weren’t true...even though he had never been unfaithful to her. He’d wanted to marry her.
Maazin crumpled up the paper. “She would never leave her parents. I’m going to find her.”
He turned to leave but his mother cleared his throat and Maazin turned back.
“Her parents are gone too. They left Kalyana with her. This morning, in fact. They should already be in Dubai.”
“Where are they going?”
His mother shrugged. “Who knows? They didn’t tell me. Kalyanese people are free to come and go out of their country as they please.”
Maazin had gone to her parents’ vanilla plantation, which was on the westerly side of the main island. And his mother had been right. They had left and their plantation had been for sale. It had made no sense.
And he’d felt betrayed.
So he couldn’t help but wonder why they’d left and why she was now back. She’d fled in the middle of the night like she’d been afraid. So why had she come back?
At least now he knew where she had gone and what she had done with her life these past ten years. She’d become a surgeon!
He hadn’t expected that.
Why not? You became one too.
“You okay?”
Maazin turned around to see Jeena standing next to him.
“Perfectly,” he said.
She cocked an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Yes,” he snapped, and then he sighed. “Sorry. I’m tired. It’s been non-stop since we set up this hospital.”
“I can see,” she said gently, and then tilted her head to the side. “I thought the Royal Guard set up this hospital?”
“They did. I’m part of the Royal Guard.”
Her mouth dropped open and then snapped shut. “You’re a member of the guard? Since when?”
He wanted to tell her since she’d left and he’d had that drunken night, the night his brother Ali and his wife Chandni had died.
After the funeral he’d joined the guard to give back and try to appease the pain and guilt he’d felt for surviving when they hadn’t.
And when he’d served his first year he’d decided to become a surgeon, to save even more lives.
It won’t bring Ali back.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been a member of the Royal Guard for almost ten years.”
“That seems so unlike you.”
His spine stiffened and he wanted to ask her who she thought he was. He hadn’t been the one to leave. He’d stayed and made the most of the heartache she’d caused.
“Help!”
Maazin spun around as a man came in carrying a lifeless boy. He ran toward the man, who looked exhausted and sick. He scooped the boy up in his arms.
“Your Highness, please...my son.”
“What’s wrong?” Jeena asked, coming up beside Maazin and looking at the boy.
“He’s burning up,” Maazin stated, touching the boy’s face.
“He started complaining of abdominal pain two days ago and there was blood...” The boy’s father looked pale.
Maazin’s stomach dropped and he felt sure he knew what it was.
The boy’s father was probably a farmer who got water from the river. After the cyclone the water source had probably become contaminated.
“We need to isolate the boy and his father. I think it’s dysentery,” Maazin said to Jeena under his breath so as not to alarm the others in the hospital.
Jeena nodded and Maazin took the boy to the back of the hospital. There was a small building that they had the use of with a few rooms for cases such as this. Jeena led the boy’s father to one of the rooms as well.
They had to get the two of them away from the other patients as bacillary dysentery was highly contagious, and since Maazin had picked the boy up without gloves he was going to have to go on a course of antibiotics as well and burn his clothes.
At least Jeena had on a surgical gown and gloves, as well as a mask. She was prepared and Maazin had been too busy thinking about the past and letting Jeena’s presence unnerve him, so that he hadn’t thought about dysentery being a problem after a cyclone. He hadn’t changed into scrubs. He hadn’t set up to deal with such a contagious disease, and he was kicking himself for not doing it sooner.
He was a fool, but right now he was going to try and save this young boy’s life.
The boy winced and moaned in pain, but had a high fever and was completely out of it. Maazin set him on a bed and then got about setting up an IV with a bolus of fluids, electrolytes and antibiotics.
Jeena got the boy’s father into the room beside him and through the small window that separated these two rooms he could see that she was doing the same and instructing a nurse, who had put on a hazmat suit, how to set up the quarantine.
Jeena then slipped out of the room and came to him. She looked at the boy and Maazin thought he saw a pained expression on her face.
“You’re going to need to get out of those clothes and go on antibiotics in the other room.”
“I know,” Maazin said. “And you’ll have to as well.”
She nodded. “I know. I’ve changed and disposed of the gown, gloves and mask. I’ll have the decontamination shower just to be sure, and then get the course of antibiotics.”
“I want to make sure my patient’s fever comes down.” Maazin glanced down at the boy. So small and so sick. He hated seeing his people suffer.
“Your patient? I didn’t realize you were a doctor.” And he could hear the surprise in her voice.
“Yes. I’m a surgeon, a surgeon in the Royal Guard. My brother Farhan and I have been working here since the cyclone hit. I do my duty to my people!”
“Wow, I’m surprised,” she said.
“What? That I’m a doctor or that I’m competent?” he snapped.
Jeena’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” he said. He appreciated her apology.
“Either way, you need to take precautions. Princes are susceptible to dysentery too.”
“I’m not leaving my patient!”
“I can take care of that, Your Highness.” A Canadian doctor he was not familiar with came into the room in a hazmat suit. “I think you best go and clean up so we can keep the infection from spreading.”
Maazin sighed. “Fine. You’re right.”
He followed Jeena to where the showers were. She slipped into one of the stalls and Maazin made his way to the other stall. As he passed by, he glanced down at her phone, which was buzzing, an
d was shocked to see a picture of a little boy on her phone. At first glance it reminded him of his late brother, but there were no pictures of Ali in a hockey jersey. And then it hit him.
The picture was of a little boy with gray-green eyes like his, looking back at him.
And suddenly he felt a bit dizzy.
CHAPTER THREE
JEENA WATCHED THE bolus of antibiotics dripping down and into her arm. It was unlikely that she had dysentery, but given the extremely infectious nature of it, she didn’t want to take any chances.
People who weren’t treated died.
And it was a painful way to die.
Maazin was in the bed next to her, he was wearing scrubs instead of the kurta that he’d greeted her in and he looked angry as he was hooked up to an antibiotic drip. He was brooding. This seemed to be more like the Maazin she remembered.
Of course she couldn’t blame him. She’d be annoyed too if someone questioned her like she’d questioned him.
It just took her completely by surprise that he had served in the royal guard and become a surgeon too. He had never really talked about what he wanted to do because there was no expectation for him to do anything. He was a prince.
And she was impressed that he’d done something with his life.
I wonder what Lady Meleena thinks of his work?
Jeena was annoyed that she let that thought slip in and she was angry at herself for questioning him. She’d apologized, but she knew he was still angry with her.
“We should find out if anyone else is in that farmer’s home,” Jeena said. “They’ll all have to be treated.”
“It’s just the man and his son. I’m told the boy’s mother died last year in a farming accident,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
Maazin wouldn’t look at her. The bolus of antibiotics was apparently far more interesting.
Of course, she couldn’t really blame him. Their first meeting a couple of hours ago hadn’t been the warmest.
She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to make the best of a tense situation.
“Who is that boy?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.
