Second Chances (Blood Brothers #3)

by Manda Mellett

  At first, he was pleased to find I was alert and in full command of my senses. But I stopped him before he had a chance to speak. “Ethan’s dead.” My voice was croaky from disuse, and my throat sore from the ventilator tube which hadn’t long been removed. I forced myself to continue through the pain. “I want to go back to England, Kadar.”

  I watched as he blinked rapidly, my words not being what he’d wanted to hear. “But…”

  “No buts, Kadar. We said all there is to say.”

  “You didn’t say anything. You left me a note.” His eyebrows arched, puzzled.

  If I could have looked away from him I would have, but my weakness had immobilised me, so I was forced to watch the pained expression on his face. “I still meant what I said, Kadar. And I’ve made a decision, I’m sorry, but I can’t finish the harem. I want to return home to England; I want to recuperate there and then rebuild my life.” I swallowed, not only to make sure I could get out the next sentence but to hide the lie I needed to tell him, “I want to get out of this country; there’s nothing for me in Amahad.”

  “You saved my life,” he says gruffly. “I owe you everything.”

  Perhaps I would have been more emotionally engaged if I could remember putting myself in front of that bullet, but I couldn’t, so it was easy to shrug off the compliment. “Kadar, you’re the emir of a country where one of your sheikhs sentenced me to death. Do you think I want to stay here a minute longer than necessary?” I tried to put as much force into my weak voice as I could, willing him to believe me while the truth was all I wanted to do was to stay close to him, and by his side forever. When I left Amahad, I’d be leaving a part of me there, a large part. I’d be leaving my heart. But Kadar’s neglect of his duties had already confirmed I’d be making a mess of both our lives if I didn’t follow this through. Kadar’s future was mapped out for him, and it didn’t include me. Far better to leave, and let him get on with his life. In time, I hoped to be able to rebuild mine. It was a mistake to get too close to the emir. Staying nearby would only make it worse.

  Whether he believed my reasons or not, or maybe he’d only stayed by my side through guilt, my words had the effect that I desired. Our eyes met in one long glance, and I had to use all the strength I had to force my expression to remain cold and unfeeling. After a few minutes, he gave me a sad nod, looked away and slowly stood, gathering his robes around him and left. He didn’t spare one glance back as he went through the door. I’ve not seen or heard from him since.

  He, or one of his employees, arranged a private plane equipped with all the necessary medical paraphernalia, complete with what seemed to be far too many doctors and nurses, and the very next day I was flown back to England with Sean. Once on my home soil, I was taken to, and incarcerated in, a private hospital and given treatment and accommodation that could be described as nothing other than five star. At the time, it didn’t occur to me to think of who was covering the expense, but when I recovered the mental capacity to ask that question all I learned was if you saved an emir’s life there wasn’t much you could want for that you wouldn’t receive.

  “You pumping your pain meds there, pet?” Sean’s amused prompt brings me back to the present showing me I’d spent too long lost in my thoughts.

  My head aches something chronic, and my shoulder’s throbbing, and while it’s tempting, I put off hitting the morphine pump for a little while longer. “Sorry, Sean. I was just thinking about everything that happened. It’s good to see you. But how are you doing?”

  He shrugs, “Fed up with the crutches and the fact Ben’s going to confine me to desk work for the next six months. But I’m getting there. Can’t wait to get the fucking plaster off, though.”

  “When’s that happening?”

  “Another four weeks.” He grins ruefully, “Gets me the sympathy vote, I suppose. Hey, I need to have the heroine of the hour’s signature on it.” Lifting his leg onto the bed, he goes through his pockets to find a pen and hands it to me.

  Smiling, I sign my name with a flourish. There’s not a lot of room left to write anything at all, so it’s easy to imagine he’s been playing on it. “Not sure I’ve earned the heroine label, Sean. But it’s good to see you. You didn’t need to come.”

  “You don’t have many visitors,” he observes.

  This is true. My mother had come over briefly but had had to return to France. She’s currently going through a course of marriage counselling with husband number six. I’m hoping for her sake they can reconcile their differences; she’s getting too old to start all over again. It was good to catch up with her, but things had been awkward between us. I couldn’t explain to her satisfaction how Ethan had got me on his hook in the first place, and being such an independent woman she couldn’t understand how it had been so difficult for me to leave, or the lack of contact I’d had with her over the past eighteen months, but she’s trying. I’m hopeful we’ll get to a better relationship in time.

  “So, this is just a social call?” Poor Sean, he’s made the effort to come to see me so I ought to give him my full attention.

  He lifts his chin, “Ben wanted me to check up on you, and to let you know you’ve still got protection. We think everything’s clear, but just in case one of Ethan’s men goes rogue. Hargreaves escaped, as you know. He snuck away in the helicopter with the rest of Ethan’s men just after you were shot.”

  “I still don’t think there’s any need for that. He was Ethan’s employee; he wouldn’t have any remaining beef with me, surely?” I frown slightly, not certain how much I should be worried.

  Sean doesn’t make too much of it, presumably not to worry me, “Well, we’re keeping an eye on things for peace of mind. And you’ve got Grade A on call for as long as you want it.” He pauses, “Kadar’s still worried about you. He’s asked me to let him know how you’re doing.”

  “He gets the doctor’s reports.” He should; he’s paying for my treatment. Though patient confidentiality means he doesn’t know everything. I don’t like to think of owing him for my treatment; I don’t like to think about him at all. It only upsets me. When I close my eyes all I can see is the hurt on his face when I last saw him, but I’d had to make a clean break, if only for my sanity. In a few short weeks, he will be choosing his bride. Better to have ended it when I did. Especially in light of subsequent revelations.

  “He wanted an eyewitness report,” Sean gives me a gentle smile, “The doctors only report on your physical progress. He wants to know how you’re feeling.”

  I go to shake my head and immediately regret it. “You didn’t have to drag yourself down here.” To be honest, I want to forget about everything. If I could turn the clock back two years, I would. Ethan destroyed my body, but Kadar? Well, Kadar has caused an awful lot of damage to my heart that will take a very long time, if ever, to heal.

  Sean looks at me strangely, almost accusingly, “You can’t distance yourself from Kadar, however much you want. Not now, can you? Don’t you have something you need to tell him?”

  My eyes open wide, my heart beating faster. What does Sean know?

  As my silence indicates my refusal, his face goes dark, disapproving, “I think Kadar has a right to know.”

  “To know what?” I try to get away by appearing ignorant. He can’t know. No one knows except the medical staff here, and they’d be breaking their Hippocratic oaths and risk being struck off if they let anything slip without my express permission. I didn’t have a clue until the doctor told me, after having been starved, beaten and severely injured, it never occurred to me it was possible. It seemed a miracle.

  But his next words reveal my secret’s out, “That you’re pregnant.”

  “How the bloody hell do you know that?” Forgetting my aching head, I sit up, managing only to get as far as propping myself on my elbows. My eyes are blazing, only to see him shrugging, and not particularly apologetic.

  “I read your notes. It’s written there.” He waves at the foot of my bed. At my look of compl
ete horror, he continues, “Habit, I’m afraid. Part of the job to be curious.”

  “Fuck, Sean!” Hopefully, I’ll have no other nosy visitors. It’s lucky it was too early for it to be detected by the doctors in Amahad, and I’d only found out myself forty-eight hours ago. “It’s very early days.” I’m only just pregnant, and when they told me my only thought was how right I’d been to leave. “I’m not telling him, Sean. I can’t do that to him.” It was a mistake I’d made, not Kadar, and the ramifications would be enormous.

  “He carries so much guilt, Zoe; he blames himself for everything you went through. For trusting Richard, for getting there too late…and now he’s the father of your child.”

  Shaking my head, I refute any responsibility lies on Kadar, “It wasn’t too late; I’m alive. And how could he know his assistant was going to betray him? He has nothing to reproach himself for. It’s down to me, all of it, for allowing Ethan an opportunity to stir up trouble in Amahad. Ethan was always going to try to kill me when he caught up with me. I’m just sorry for bringing trouble to his door.”

  “Do you love him?” Sean’s direct question shocks me. When I don’t answer he continues, “That night, well, it seemed, well, pretty intense. And you risked your life to save him.”

  Having a conversation with Sean about my love life seems strange. He doesn’t appear right for the role of a relationship counsellor, and the thought brings a small smile to my face, but then I grow serious again, “Sean, you know you’re killing me here? You want the truth, Sean? I feel such a strong attraction to Kadar that I don’t think I’d ever feel anything like it with anyone else. Yes, I think it’s love. But you know what his future holds, Sean, just as well as I do. And his future doesn’t, and can’t, include me.” Despite trying to forget it, Sean’s reference to it forces me to remember that time when Kadar let me take control. It was then I fell hard for him, and the reason I had to put him out of my life. He is destined for another, and I would only have done more damage to my heart if I stayed with him longer. “There would be a lot of hurt all around if this comes out. I can’t go back to Amahad. Have you any idea what kind of mess we’d all be in if Kadar found out about the baby?” I know the implications of carrying the emir’s child; if he knew about my pregnancy he might force me to return. I’ve thought about nothing else is the last couple of days since the doctor had told me I was pregnant.

  “It’s a fucking mess.” Now Sean sounds angry on my behalf. “You’ll keep the child?”

  My free hand which is not constricted by a sling goes protectively to my stomach, “I will not abort my baby.” I leave no room for argument. My first concern had been for the safety of my baby and all the drugs they’d had to give me, but I’d been assured, especially as I was only in my first trimester, that morphine wouldn’t harm the foetus. The moment I knew about it I became fiercely protective. There was no doubt in my mind I wanted this baby. The baby that had survived against all odds.

  “So Kadar must know.” He’s equally adamant.

  “No.” I try to rise above the pain, to get him to understand. “Kadar will be meeting his potential brides, when is it now? In a two or three weeks?” I’ve lost the sense of the passing days, so I wait for him to nod in confirmation. “He will need to marry someone who’ll help him unite the country. One of the tribal leaders’ daughters I expect. After being caught up in the insurgency, I’ve seen the problem with my own eyes. He’s got so much to do to make things right in Amahad. An illegitimate heir from an English mistress is not going to help his cause. He never needs to know, Sean.”

  “Don’t you think any man has the right to know he’s going to be a father?”

  I try to get my thoughts straight; I need him to understand. “Any man, yes. But Kadar’s not just any man is he? It would cause too many complications, not just for him, but for Amahad. And that country’s fragile enough at the moment. If I’m carrying a boy, well, it would be the heir. And where would that leave his new wife?” My voice falters as I say those offensive words, the thought of Kadar marrying and coming to love another woman makes me want to curl up and die. But somehow I have to find the strength to carry on. “I can’t do that to him, Sean. He doesn’t need to know.”

  “But it’s his child!”

  “He doesn’t need to know,” I repeat, softly, but emphatically. I fast run out of energy, and lie back against the pillows once more, closing my eyes but remaining conscious of the man sitting next to me in silence, contemplating, as if he’s trying to find an answer to my unanswerable situation. Yes, I agree any man has a right to know that he has fathered a child, but in these circumstances, what Kadar doesn’t know, and must never find out, is the best path to making sure the knowledge cannot hurt him. And I’ll love this child, as much as I’ll always love its father.

  After a while, the sound of the door opening and closing reaches me, and I know Sean’s left me alone. Very alone.

  Chapter 37

  Kadar

  Having to visit the hospital today reminds me of the last time I saw Zoe. Well, what doesn’t remind me of her? Everywhere I turn, everything my eyes fall on brings back memories of the woman I’ve lost. Seeing Cara hold her newborn daughter in her arms made me freeze inside as it puts a vision in my head of Zee holding our baby. An impossible dream. I’d gone through the motions, admiring the child who I knew didn’t look anything like as pretty as Zee’s would have, slapping my brother’s back and congratulating him while ribbing him that a daughter was going to keep him on his toes.

  They’ve named her Zorah, meaning Dawn, hoping her birth signifies new beginnings. What began with my father’s death has hopefully ended with the opening of a new chapter for Amahad and our family; a chance to start over. My countrymen lacked faith in my rule, but if I’m honest, I’d lacked belief in myself as ruler, thrust into the role far too early. Now I’ve finally thrown off the shackles of my father’s regime, earning my own brand of respect from my citizens.

  Taking my leave of my brother and his family, I still can’t shake the memory of Zee looking so small and vulnerable in her hospital bed when I last saw her all those weeks ago. When I think what that bastard put her through I want to kill him all over again, but this time it wouldn’t be a quick death by bullet. I’d seen the hole, seen the pile of stones waiting, seen the injuries inflicted by St John-Davies and his evil sidekick and the terror of what she must have gone through makes me go cold. Hargreaves escaped, of course, slipping away after his employer’s death, flying away in the helicopter along with the mercenaries. Grade A is trying to track him down, and when they eventually find him, he’ll be subjected to my mercy, but he can be assured I’ll have none.

  Zoe doesn’t know it, but I remained by her side constantly for the first day she’d stayed in the hospital, even when medical intervention guaranteed there was no chance of her waking. I just needed to see her chest rise and fall as she breathed, to feel her warm hand in mine to convince myself she was still alive. But the aftermath of that fucked up situation in Ezirad got to the point where I could no longer afford myself the luxury of staying by her side. But I allowed myself those first twenty-four hours before picking up the business of state once again. And even then I stayed close by in Z̧almā, conducting my business from the desert city, refusing to return to the capital.

  When she awoke, I had to go and see her, to watch as she drifted in and out of consciousness, feeling helpless when I saw the pain she was in. And then there was the dreadful day she spoke to me, the final goodbye. When I stormed from her room at first, I ranted and raged, but as I calmed down, I realised that she had every reason to want to leave and that I had to let her go for her sake, even if that was the very last thing I personally wanted to do.

  But I would never forget the woman who I’d wanted to make mine, and had done, be it was only for that one glorious night, and the memory will need to last me a lifetime. The bittersweet night that ended up causing her such pain. Fuck! If it hadn’t been for my indiscretion and
Abdul-Muhsi’s man seeing me enter and leave her suite, St John-Davies might never have accused her of adultery, might never have put her in the horrific position she had been—something that will probably give her nightmares for the rest of her life. Though I have no doubt, he’d probably have done something equally terrible. Not that that thought gives me any better comfort.

  I should have known something was wrong, should have picked up that Nijad’s staff were behaving differently and realised they’d been replaced with Abdul-Muhsi’s people, should have read all signs that were there for me to see had I not been so eager to get into her pants. Had I not had a one-track mind I wouldn’t have missed all those fucking warnings that under different circumstances would have screamed out at me. No, Zee has too much to forgive me for; I’m not surprised she’s no good memories of Amahad or myself and just wants to forget.

  As I’d arranged for the medical transport to take her home to England and away out of my life, I realised she was taking a part of my heart with me, and I’m not sure that wound will ever heal. She’s there in my head. Every. Fucking. Day!

  I shouldn’t even have time to think about her; the revolt headed by Abdul-Muhsi has hit the leaders throughout the country hard. While a challenge to my leadership could seem fair game, the manner in the errant Sheikh had gone about it had shocked everyone to the core. If Abdul-Muhsi hadn’t seized his chance when St. John-Davies had requested his assistance in kidnapping Zoe, if he’d had longer to pull together a properly disciplined armed force who knows what the outcome might have been? It could have been a blood bath.

  But it was the treatment given to Zoe that had been like a bucket of cold water over everyone’s heads. Uniting behind Abdul-Muhsi would have brought Sharia Law to Amahad, along with its derogation of women, disregard for human rights, and an unfair legal system where a man’s word was worth fifty percent more than a woman’s; a witness statement by a non-Muslim worth near nothing at all. Although the desert tribes are Muslim, the very graphic example of what could happen quite legitimately to innocent women under such an authoritarian religious regime was a stark reminder of what they were supposedly supporting. It wasn’t just the mercenaries who had put aside their weapons and quietly slipped away, the tribesmen supporting the insurgency had thrown down their arms without a further fight.