Falling for the Sheikh She Shouldn't Read online

  Now his task was to ensure Fadia and her sons were safe. Nothing else. But he feared it would not be easy. That was his real problem. He feared. Feared he would not be able to stop something terrible happening. Feared he’d be unable to save Fadia and her sons like he had been unable to save his own family.

  Prior to two years ago he’s been afraid of nothing. Evil had arrived and until it was conquered he would not be distracted.

  His eyes strayed to the empty corridor. Perhaps the midwife could help, though. And so his concentration returned to Carmen as he turned thoughtfully back into his suite. She had braved the lion in his own den. He admired her courage. And she amused him with her determination not to be cowed by his prestige. But she’d lied about Tom.

  So the dog might be here in the hotel. He would have Yusuf investigate. And delve into the delightful Miss Carmen’s past too. Perhaps she could help his cousin more than they knew, and such information would be useful.

  He needed Fadia and the twins well enough to travel as soon as possible. He would feel better when he had them back in Zandorro.

  Zafar strode across the room and out the doors onto the balcony, punished himself with the rise of gall in his throat from that height, forced himself to grip the rail and glance down. His gut rolled and he stepped back as he drew breath.

  His mind roamed while he stared out over the rolling sea. If he cut off the bustling town below, the ocean seemed not dissimilar to the rolling dunes of his desert, and he could feel a lightening of his mood that normally only came when he retreated to solitude.

  A whimsical thought intruded where none normally went. He wondered what Miss Carmen would think of the desert or the ways of a desert prince. It was an unexpected but intriguing scenario.

  * * *

  Carmen clanged the door behind her. Her favourite place. The fire escape. He’d burnt her again. It was criminal to be that handsome and mesmerising. But at least she’d found out Fadia was just a pawn on his gold-embossed chess set and she, Carmen O’Shannessy, didn’t like the idea. Or him. If Fadia needed an ally, Carmen was her girl.

  It brought back too many unpleasant memories. The way Carl had turned, as early as their honeymoon, swearing at her, keeping her awake with tirades when she’d needed to sleep, wearing her down, demeaning her after a year of desolation until she’d finally accepted the enormity of her mistake and run away. Had moved jobs, states, lost friends until finally she rebuilt her life.

  Domineering men did not have a place in her life. She straightened off the door and began her descent. Unfortunately, she could picture this man’s wicked smile so easily and the warmth she’d felt.

  No. No trust, especially for men who could cool and heat her body with just a glance. So why did she want to run back and relive the sensation? How did that work?

  When Carmen opened the door on the sixth floor, of course her friend the guard was still there. He rose from his chair when she appeared and nodded coldly as she walked past him towards her own room at the end of the corridor.

  Made a good little enemy there, she thought as she stared past him to the rooms of mums and babies that looked out over the beach. When she reached the end of the corridor the midwife’s room welcomed her with a sanctuary, which she couldn’t help embracing, from his beady eyes.

  So what if her room only held spare supplies? At least she could shut the door—which she did firmly—and lean back against it.

  Unfortunately, the barrier didn’t stop the thoughts of Zafar that followed. She couldn’t remember ever being this unsettled over a man and that loss of control brought unpleasant reminders of her marriage.

  Carmen pushed herself off the door and straightened the empty baby cots before energetically restocking the linen from the trolley into her shelves. Still needing distraction, she wiped over the bath equipment and scales she used to weigh the babies.

  ‘Done. Hmm.’ She rested her hand on the computer at the desk, but she didn’t see any of it. She could see Prince Zafar, though, in her mind’s eye, and recalled the way he made her feel.

  * * *

  On Tuesday, refreshed after a full night’s sleep, Carmen welcomed the new mothers recently arrived from their birth at the nearby hospital. When she’d finally made it to her room the phone shrilled with neglect.

  ‘Midwife. Can I help you?’

  ‘Carmen? It’s Fadia. I’ve been trying to reach you for ages. There’s a new pink rash on Harrison that’s a bit pimply. Can you come to my room when you get a minute, please?’

  ‘Sure. Everything else okay?’ No word from Tom, she hoped.

  ‘The boys and I are fine otherwise, if that’s what you mean.’

  Carmen relaxed. ‘Is it okay if I check on one of my other mothers first?’

  ‘Oh?’

  Carmen smiled into the phone. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can but might be ten minutes, unless it’s urgent.’ A little of the privilege she was used to had crept into Fadia’s voice. Interesting family. ‘That way I can spend longer with you when I get there.’

  ‘Of course. No problem. I’ll see you soon.’

  The time Carmen spent with the other young mum seemed to fly and she glanced at her watch as she waved goodbye. She needed to arrange times for weights for those who were going home that day but she’d better check the princess first. She made her way to Fadia. With two babies to care for, she needed the most help.

  Carmen knocked, then opened the door with her key, and almost walked into Zafar who again was with his cousin.

  His black brows rose in disbelief. ‘You have a key?’

  Carmen shared her own frown. That tone. That arrogance. She wasn’t sure why it goaded her so much but thankfully she wasn’t one of his underlings. ‘Yes. To all the mothers’ rooms so they don’t have to get up to let me in.’

  She tilted her head at him. ‘Of course I always knock first.’

  Now inscrutable, his ‘I’m sure you do’ left Carmen seething again. What was it about this man that pressed her buttons? Normally the easiest-going person, just a glance from him was enough to raise her blood pressure, and yet his actions were almost reasonable in the circumstances. So why wasn’t her response more tranquil?

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Did he think she was in collusion with Tom? ‘I hope Fadia is able to rest between feeds. Having you come so often, that is.’

  ‘My cousin would be able to rest if the midwife came immediately when she was asked.’

  So now we get to his Excellency’s displeasure. Tsk, tsk. Real world. ‘Unfortunately, your cousin is not my only patient.’

  His lips tightened and he glanced at his watch. ‘Then I will arrange it to be so.’ There it was, his red rag to her bull.

  It’s not all about you, buster. ‘You will do no such thing, Your Highness.’ She stressed the title, more to calm her own urge to throttle him than out of respect. Was this guy for real? The most annoying part was that she couldn’t let it show because drama was the last thing Fadia needed. She smiled at her patient before she turned back to the royal pain.

  ‘Perhaps this topic is best saved for a time that isn’t taking up your cousin’s.’ She moved past him. ‘Now, Fadia, would you like to show me your baby’s rash?’

  Zafar’s voice floated over her shoulder, blandly. ‘I have already told her it is erythema toxicarum, a rash very common in the first three days in newborns.’

  Carmen blinked but didn’t turn to look at him. Obviously he had a medical advantage he hadn’t mentioned. Typical.

  ‘My cousin is a paediatrician and established the new children’s hospital in Zandorro before he was recalled to his duty to the monarchy,’ Fadia explained.

  That would explain his knowledge and also a little more about why they’d let the twins out so early. She looked at the red pimply rash
on Harrison’s neck and arms. So he knew what he was talking about.

  ‘He’s right. And mums are naturally concerned.’ She smiled at Fadia. ‘You might find that the rash moves with heat. So if you were to hold Harrison’s leg while you changed a nappy you might find the rash had suddenly become more prominent there and less prominent from where it showed a minute ago.’

  Zafar was over harmless rashes. ‘I agree that my cousin looks tired. Is there a nursery where the babies can go while she sleeps?’

  And who had made it easier for her to leave the hospital ward too quickly? Carmen thought. Hmm. ‘I’m afraid we don’t have that option here. This facility is for transition to home. If Fadia wanted to have the babies minded she could return to the hospital or have a relative stay in the room while she rests.’

  She spread her hands. Her look said she doubted Fadia would relax while he was watching over her.

  ‘Or I could hire a mothercraft nurse for you again. Surely that would be easier?’ Zafar queried his cousin, but Fadia’s eyes pleaded as she shook her head. ‘No. Please.’

  ‘For the moment we will do as you wish.’ Zafar frowned and Carmen wondered if he was regretting he’d hurried her here.

  She watched his face but he gave nothing away. ‘I will discuss this with your midwife later today.’ It seemed Zafar was choosing to leave this time or was he wary of her asking him to go. Either way, Carmen was pleased she didn’t have to fight about it.

  Left to their own devices, the women had the babies fed and settled within the hour. Despite a tantrum from Harry that rattled the windows and an inclination from Bailey to sleep through the feed, finally the curtains closed so Fadia could have a rest.

  ‘You can ring me if they wake and I’ll help you get sorted for the feed.’

  Fadia nodded sleepily.

  ‘Ring the midwife’s room if you get stuck. If I get tied up, the other midwife will be here and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  The day seemed to stretch for ever, not unusual after Carmen’s run of night duty was finished, but tonight was the second of the four in her week when she could fall into bed and sleep the night through.

  As seven o’clock drew closer, she found herself looking forward to a break. Handover took longer than normal for the night midwife because the intricacies of Fadia’s case involved so many layers. Finally she was riding down in the lift to the basement on her way home.

  ‘You look exhausted.’ Zafar was leaning against her car.

  Was that a coincidence or did he really know it was her vehicle? Tiredness suddenly took a back seat to nervous energy. ‘I’m feeling a little wired after today. Strange men who recognise my car make me even more cross.’

  He smiled, unperturbed, but offered no explanation as he watched her.

  She tapped her foot with irritability—not nervous energy. She wished he’d go away. Almost. ‘Did you want something, Prince Zafar? Apart from to tell me that I look tired, which was very kind. Thank you.’

  Zafar pushed himself off her bonnet and loomed in front of her. ‘I wish to invite you to walk with me. Even tired, you are lovely.’

  Yeah, right. Lovely with little sleep. She resisted the urge to step back. A walk? ‘Now? It’s almost dark.’ She narrowed her eyes. Kidnapping had been mentioned. ‘Why?’

  He shrugged. ‘Because it would be good to get out of the hotel. Walk along the cliff top. What is it you say? Blow away the cobwebs? That is one of the things I miss most about Australia. The graphic expressions.’

  So he’d lived here before. It had been an endless twenty-four hours but his background and history couldn’t but intrigue some part of her. Had he lived here before he was a prince perhaps? A young doctor? That made him more normal. She met those every day.

  The idea of walking in the fresh air before driving to her solitary flat was tempting. Let the stresses of the day be whisked into the salty breeze that blew a mere hundred metres away. It held some attraction, as did the idea of hearing a little about this enigmatic man in front of her.

  ‘Perhaps a short one. I sleep better with exercise.’

  ‘So obliging,’ he mocked gently.

  Carmen glanced at her car, shrugged her shoulders, and added, ‘Or I could go home now.’

  He smiled. And what a smile. The most spontaneous grin she’d seen. ‘I am walking. Would you care to accompany me?’ Still optional, and it seemed she did want to go because her legs made their own decision and followed him up the ramp like she was on a string.

  It was still light, towards the last before sunset, but the salty tang of ocean breeze made her glad she’d ventured out.

  She didn’t know what made her look back—in truth, she’d forgotten about his bodyguard—but Yusuf was there in the lee of the building, watching them. His eyes met hers coldly.

  Zafar saw her frown and with a flick of his wrist banished the man from sight.

  He wasn’t sure why it had been so important to spend time with this woman. His brain had suggested a discussion about Fadia but his mood had lifted as soon as she’d stepped out of the lift. How did she do that? And did he want her to?

  They waited at the traffic lights and strangely the silence was not heavy between them. His interest in the companionship of a woman had been absent for the last two years and yet her company made him feel light and free.

  They chatted about his homeland and his love of the desert until the ‘Walk’ sign propelled them across the road and down to the cobbled path that ran around the headland.

  ‘I’ve never been to the desert.’

  ‘It is very beautiful and harsh.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Like some Australian women.’

  What was it about her that captured his interest? He glanced at her. Perhaps it was the genuine empathy she could feel for his cousin. Perhaps her obvious lack of ulterior motive. Or her transparent emotions that enticed him to savour her moods, even when he annoyed her. He felt his mouth curve until he realised what he was doing. He was not here for this.

  Carmen ignored the teasing inherent in that remark and stamped down the excitement she could feel growing at his company. This was not good. They were worlds apart and she didn’t need to fall for another domineering man. But she could enjoy her walk and satisfy her curiosity. No strings attached. ‘So, if you are a prince, do you have a palace?’ A little tongue in cheek. He probably lived in a nice house in the city.

  ‘My brother and I each have our own palace in the mountains, and share service to our grandfather at his palace in Zene, the capital of Zandorro.’

  Oh. She hadn’t actually thought he was that grand. It was all too fairy-tale but it made her feel safer that he wouldn’t be interested in an ordinary midwife. ‘What about an oasis in the desert with tents?’

  It was as if he’d read her mind. ‘Absolutely. You would not believe it.’

  ‘Lawrence of Arabia?’ They smiled at each other. ‘Tell me.’

  He shrugged, amused. ‘A true Bedouin camp is a little earthier than mine. My oasis belonged to a tourist company that went bankrupt. I bought them out when I could have just waited for them to leave but the karma is good. I use it for business negotiations when Western wives accompany their husbands. Their fantasies are always good business. Bathing in oils, traditional dress for the meal. I think you might enjoy it.’

  It could be fun. ‘Are you saying Westerners are easily swayed by that fantasy?’ She was having a few pretty pictures of her own. She smiled at him. ‘I’m all for fantasies as long as I can get off when I want to.’

  Zafar watched her face. Saw the dreamy expression in her eyes change as she thought of something unpleasant. He felt his own mood lower in response.

  He realised he’d like to see this kind woman pampered, cosseted, cared for. The worries of the world removed from her lovely s
houlders. Perhaps one day, when he was not called to royal duty and all this was over, he might come back and search her out. See if she still wanted to see the desert.

  It was an intriguing idea he shouldn’t consider and it seemed her curiosity was greater about his time in her own country. ‘So you’ve lived here before?’

  He looked across at her as they walked past the old baths. ‘My mother was buried in Sydney.’

  ‘Did she leave Zandorro late in life?’

  He put his hand on her elbow to steer her safely aside as a pushbike rider pedalled past. Her skin was like silk yet taut with youth and vibrancy. He could feel the impact of her arm on his fingers.

  Touching her skin was too distracting. Zafar let his hand drop. Too soft yet supple, too enticing, and he had no right to touch her. Guilt swamped him. How could he forget his wife so easily? Just two years and for the first time he was burdened with the beginnings of lust. For a woman so different from his beloved.

  So why did he want to capture this woman’s hand and bump his hip against hers as they walked? Why now, suddenly, did he see Carmen as attractive when for ages he’d barely acknowledged other women existed? What was it about her? He glanced at her animated face as she waited for an answer. What had she’d asked? Ah, yes. His mother.

  ‘Yes, my mother left Zandorro when my father died. She married an Australia diplomat a few years later.’

  He didn’t want to think about how she’d left him and his brother behind in their grandfather’s care. How much they’d missed the brief chances to feel her gentle love and support, which they’d taken for granted in their busy lives. It hadn’t been until he’d demanded he come to university here that he’d learned the truth. She’d had no choice if she’d wanted a life for herself and the hour or two each day she saw her sons hadn’t filled the gap his father had left.

  Her face was turned to him. Not passive attention but real empathy in her gaze. ‘So where did you live when you were here?’

  And he was allowing her truths he shared with no one. ‘With my mother and her husband all through university. Then I bought a house near theirs until I completed my time as registrar three years ago.’