Книга - Falling For The Sheik

Falling For The Sheik
Carol Grace


Desperate to turn her life around, nurse Amanda Reston swore off big-city E.R.'s and powerful, deceptive men. Surely working private duty in placid Pine Grove would provide peace of mind…Alas, Amanda's first patient proved impossible-impossibly handsome, impossibly rich and impossibly impatient to recover from his skiing injuries. Difficult, demanding, yet maddeningly attractive, Sheik Rahman Harun imperiously installed Amanda in his posh ski villa-and seductively insinuated his way into her heart. Yet Rahman was royalty…while all Amanda had to offer was TLC. When he had recovered, would Rahman leave her with a broken heart or would he take a chance on the love of a lifetime?









“So, what brings you by, Nurse Reston?”


Rahman asked, his voice husky. “To see what a sheik looks like? To see how the mighty have fallen?” He choked on a mirthless laugh and reached for a glass of water.

Amanda automatically handed it to him.

He wrapped his fingers around hers, and Amanda felt a shock wave race up her arm. Despite the need to remain professional, she almost dropped the glass.

He was breathing hard.

So was she.

And, standing there locked in this endless, wordless gaze with him, Amanda knew deep down that Sheik Rahman Harun was unlike any other patient she’d ever had.…


Dear Reader,

There’s no better escape than a fun, heartwarming love story from Silhouette Romance. So this August, be sure to treat yourself to all six books in our sexy, sizzling collection guaranteed to keep you glued to your beach chair.

Dive right into our fantasy-filled A TALE OF THE SEA adventure with Melissa McClone’s In Deep Waters (SR#1608). In the second installment in the series about lost royal siblings from a magical kingdom, Kayla Waterton searches for a sunken ship, and discovers real treasure in the form of dark, seductive, modern-day pirate Captain Ben Mendoza.

Speaking of dark and seductive, Carol Grace’s Falling for the Sheik (SR#1607) features the mesmerizing but demanding Sheik Rahman Harun, who is nursed back to health with TLC from his beautiful American nurse, Amanda Reston. Another royal has a heart-wrenching choice to make in The Princess Has Amnesia! (SR#1606) by award-winning author Patricia Thayer. She survived a jet crash in the mountains, but when the amnesia-stricken princess remembers her true social standing, will she—can she—forget her handsome rescuer…?

Myrna Mackenzie’s Bought by the Billionaire (SR#1610) is a Pygmalian story starring Ethan Bennington, who has only three weeks to transform commoner Maggie Todd into a lady. While Cole Sullivan, the hunky, all-American hero in Wendy Warren’s The Oldest Virgin in Oakdale (SR#1609), is coerced into teaching shy Eleanor Lippert how to seduce any man—himself included.

Then laugh a hundred laughs with Carolyn Greene’s First You Kiss 100 Men… (SR#1611), a hilarious and highly sensual read about a journalist assigned to kiss 100 men. But there’s only one man she wants to kiss.…

Happy reading—and please keep in touch!






Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor




Falling for the Sheik

Carol Grace





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For Nancy Savage, international nurse, world traveler

and bonne vivante, with thanks for the help,

the years of friendship, and especially for

the laughs along the way. “Isn’t life interesting?”




Books by Carol Grace


Silhouette Romance

Make Room for Nanny #690

A Taste of Heaven #751

Home Is Where the Heart Is #882

Mail-Order Male #955

The Lady Wore Spurs #1010

* (#litres_trial_promo) Lonely Millionaire #1057

* (#litres_trial_promo) Almost a Husband #1105

* (#litres_trial_promo) Almost Married #1142

The Rancher and the Lost Bride #1153

† (#litres_trial_promo) Granted: Big Sky Groom #1277

† (#litres_trial_promo) Granted: Wild West Bride #1303

† (#litres_trial_promo) Granted: A Family for Baby #1345

Married to the Sheik #1391

The Librarian’s Secret Wish #1473

Fit for a Sheik #1500

Taming the Sheik #1554

A Princess in Waiting #1588

Falling for the Sheik #1607

Silhouette Desire

Wife for a Night #1118

The Heiress Inherits a Cowboy #1145

Expecting… #1205

The Magnificent M.D. #1284




CAROL GRACE


has always been interested in travel and living abroad. She spent her junior year of college in France and toured the world working on the hospital ship HOPE. She and her husband spent the first year and a half of their marriage in Iran, where they both taught English. She has studied Arabic and Persian languages. Then, with their toddler daughter, they lived in Algeria for two years.

Carol says that writing is another way of making her life exciting. Her office is her mountaintop home, which overlooks the Pacific Ocean and which she shares with her inventor husband, their daughter, who just graduated college, and their teenage son.










Contents


Prologue (#ueee060e7-0955-5bb2-987d-1e39f62d84dd)

Chapter One (#ud202b3bd-9a53-57cf-8b58-5bedf517be27)

Chapter Two (#u42cc1cab-dc27-523b-b4b9-d7fefb5cc92c)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)




Prologue


Sheik Rahman Harun skied the way he did everything else—expertly, wholeheartedly and a little recklessly. It was the end of a perfect day at Squaw Valley and he was making one last run. Even though the sun was setting, he hated to call it quits. He loved the rush of the wind in his face as he was doing tight stem turns. It was getting cold, but he didn’t stop. The snow, which had been slushy on the surface was now freezing into ice. He didn’t want to quit. Not yet. Sure, he was tired and not as much in control as he’d been an hour ago, but he was following a giant slalom trail, his skis one inch apart, his boots touching, carving a single track through the snow. It was pure ecstasy.

It would have been even better if he’d had someone to share the fun with. Skiing with Lisa had been exciting. They’d had a friendly competition to see who could go higher, faster and take more chances. He couldn’t quite believe she would never ski with him again. Even now, whenever he saw a woman in a bright red fitted ski jacket, her body curved gracefully as she sped down the hill, he felt the pain all over again when he realized it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. Lisa was dead.

Every time he got off the lift, he expected to see her with her goggles hanging around her neck as she reached out to grab his hand. One more run, she’d say. Come on, Rahman, just one more. But there would be no more. Lisa had taken her last run. He felt the tears sting his eyelids. He reminded himself that sheiks do not cry.

He stayed on the marked trails today. If Lisa were here she’d be leading him into deep powder in closed areas, taunting him to take a chance on getting lost or buried beneath an avalanche. When he’d try to talk her out of something risky, whether it was skiing or hang gliding or bungee jumping, she’d tell him he was no fun and she’d pout until he coaxed her out of it. One last challenge and she’d paid the price. So had he. They’d had good times, but those carefree days were over for good. Not only for Lisa, but for him, too. Nothing would ever be the same.

His twin brother Rafik would have loved the skiing today. He’d have been right there with him, every turn, every jump over every mogul. They’d learned to ski together as children on vacation in the Alps. They competed in everything—tennis, golf, racquetball and skiing. But Rahman was alone today. It was about time he got used to it. It was time to face the fact that relationships and friendships were all transitory. Nothing was permanent. Life was fragile and loneliness had a way of hitting him when he least expected it, like a sudden blast of cold wet snow.

Tomorrow a big group of his friends would arrive. That ought to help him out of his funk, but sometimes he felt even lonelier in a crowd. He missed Lisa’s laughter. He kept thinking of the things they’d planned to do together. Take a safari in East Africa, take up snowboarding, bicycle through France. He could still do those things, but what was the point of doing them alone?

His brother wasn’t available anymore, either. Rafik had recently gotten married which had left a big hole in his brother’s life. Not that he didn’t like his brother’s wife. He did. But everything was different now that Rafik had someone to share his life.

With the sun gone behind the mountain the light had changed. There were no more shadows, no way to see the dips in the snow. The landscape became featureless and indistinct. His skis clattered when they hit the frozen snow. Then they skittered. He was going too fast and he was out of control. The ground rose up to meet him and he tumbled head over heels down…down…down. The wind whistled in his ears, the snow clung to his skin. His head felt like a rubber ball banging against an icy cement floor.

When he finally came to a halt, only a few feet from a snow-covered oak tree, every bone in his body felt shattered by the impact. He lay spread-eagled, facedown in a drift of snow, waiting for the pain to subside. Rahman wondered where his skis were. His new parabolic skis that allowed him to ski better than he’d ever skied before. The skis with the excellent bindings that released so he hadn’t seriously hurt himself.

His mouth and his ears were full of snow and he ached all over, but he was okay. He was fine. Just a little sore and a little woozy. Fortunately his poles were still attached to his wrists. In a minute he’d get up and look for the skis then he’d ski down the hill and quit for the day. As soon as his head cleared and he caught his breath…He gave himself more than a minute. More than five minutes. Then he lifted his head, braced his arms against the ground and felt a spear of pain go through his chest.

Through a haze he realized he wasn’t going to ski down the hill after all. He lifted his head and tried to yell for help, but the only sound that came from his lips was a moan.




Chapter One


The Northstar Home Health Agency of Pine Grove, California, looked more like a ski chalet with its peaked roof covered in snow and interior of knotty pine. It was as warm and cheerful as the owner and manager, Rosie Dixon, who beamed at her friend Amanda from behind her desk.

“Have I got a job for you!” Rosie said.

“Already? I haven’t even unpacked my suitcase.”

“I told you this is the land of opportunity. The golden state.” Rosie spread her arms out wide. “Why else did you come?”

Why indeed? Why had Amanda quit her excellent job in Chicago and come running to this mountain community, two thousand miles away? There was only one reason. One big reason. Rosie didn’t know and Amanda didn’t plan on telling her. It was too embarrassing, too shameful, too awful.

“Because you finally came to your senses, that’s why,” Rosie said, always helpful, answering her own question. “I’ve been telling you to leave Chicago for years. I knew you’d love it here. It’s paradise.”

Love it? Paradise? Amanda looked out the window at the red-cheeked people walking down the main street wearing trendy wool caps, carrying skis over their shoulders and at the outline of the mountains in the background. Sure, she was used to snow in the winter, but not this altitude. She didn’t ski, she didn’t climb. Maybe she’d love it here, maybe she wouldn’t. At this point it didn’t matter, because she needed a change. She needed a change desperately. And Rosie had offered it to her.

We’re short on nurses, physical therapists, you name it. We’re short on all kinds of trained professionals. We’ve got plenty of waitresses and lift operators. College kids who are taking off for a year to ski, she’d said. But they’re no help. Not to me. Not to the patients.

“What is it?” Amanda asked, slipping out of her winter jacket.

“What is what? Oh, the job, the job. It’s a real challenge. Just what you said you wanted. A ski injury. Punctured lung, broken ankle, concussion, a few other complications. Still in the hospital, but champing at the bit to go home and recuperate. But home is in San Francisco so the alternative is to go to the family ski cabin. Doc says no, gotta stay in the hospital, patient says I’m outta here. I say if he agrees to the ski cabin I’ll get him a private duty nurse. Not just any private duty nurse. Somebody with years of experience in trauma and intensive care. Somebody who’s seen it all and done it all…” Rosie stood up and gestured dramatically. “My roommate and best friend from nursing school—Amanda Reston…ta da!”

Amanda admired her friend’s exuberance. How long was it since she’d been that upbeat about anything? Rosie was right about one thing. Amanda had seen it all and done it all. That was why she was here. She couldn’t do it anymore. Not there. Not with Dr. Benjamin Sandler in charge of her department. Either he had to leave or she did. She knew he wouldn’t leave. Why should he? It obviously didn’t bother him to see her every day at work the way it bothered her. And in her heart she knew it was time for her to move on. Then came Rosie’s call. The same call she made every year, twice a year or more. But this time, more urgent, more insistent.

Come to California. See what it’s like. Give it a chance. You need a change. And we need you.

So she was here. Reunited with her old friend and roommate. Despite marriage and twins, Rosie hadn’t changed much from the days when they’d been unable to study in the same room without erupting in giggles every five minutes. Rosie was just as exuberant as ever, but Amanda felt as if the fun had been drained out of her in the last year and a half. No, she wasn’t here for the skiing or the scenery or the climbing or the clear, clean air. She was here to get her self back on track. To find what she’d lost back there in Chicago’s Memorial Hospital—trust, hope, and a fresh outlook on life. Did Rosie know all that? If she did, she’d never let on.

“But if the doctor says he should be hospitalized, he must still be in pretty bad shape,” Amanda said, getting back to the subject of the patient.

“Oh, yes.” Rose looked over the papers on her desk. “I’d say so. He’s pretty much immobilized and has a chest tube insertion.”

“No wonder the doctor doesn’t want him to leave the hospital. When was the accident?” Amanda asked.

“A week ago. And it’s been chaotic in our little hospital ever since. Friends, relatives…”

“Well, that’s normal.”

“Friends, relatives flying in from all over the globe? Ignoring the posted visiting hours? Partying in the hall? Is that normal? Not here it isn’t. Not to mention catered meals, loud music coming from his room. Definitely not normal. Oh, yes, we have the occasional hot dogger who busts out of his room and tries to go back up to the slopes as soon as he’s conscious, but this is different. This guy happens to be a sheik. He has money and money talks.”

“A sheik as in desert tents, harems and camels?” Amanda asked.

“A sheik as in oil money, private school education, and stunning good looks, too, according to the nurses at the hospital. I haven’t seen him myself, just talked to him on the phone.” Rosie sighed. “That was enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the man knows what he wants and he wants to go home. He doesn’t seem to realize how sick he really is. That he’s lucky to be allowed to leave the hospital so soon. Their ski cabin is not what you or I would call a cabin. It’s a house on the lake which is big enough to house the entire extended family of sheiks and then some. According to family members, there’s a live-in housekeeper and a suite with a private entrance available for the nurse. Let’s hope the man has come to his senses and realizes he can’t go back to San Francisco with a chest tube between his ribs.”

“Do I have a choice in this?” Amanda asked. Being a private duty nurse to a guy like that could be a problem. A different kind of problem than the one she left behind, but still…

“Of course,” Rosie assured her. “You could go right into Intensive Care at the hospital. They’re always shorthanded and I’m sure they’d love to have you.”

“And the sheik?”

“I told him I’d do what I could. If I can’t find anybody, and it can’t be just anybody, he’ll have to stay in the hospital.”

Amanda nodded.

“Why don’t you go by the hospital,” Rosie suggested. “You’ll want to see it anyway. It’s nothing compared to St. Vincent’s in Chicago, but we’re proud of it. A few years ago we had to take the long drive to the hospital at the South Shore just to have a baby or an X ray. The whole town got together to raise the money to build the hospital. Pop in and take a look at our boy the sheik and see what you think. And don’t forget dinner tonight at our house.”

Amanda stood and put her jacket on. “I can’t keep imposing on you, Rosie,” she said. “You’ve already done so much.”

Rosie came around her desk and hugged her friend. “You are not imposing. I’m just so glad to have you here. Of all my friends…well, let’s just say I don’t have that many anymore what with my life these days. You’re the best. You always were. I’ve never known anybody I could talk to like you. We shared so much. I’ve missed that. You knew all my secrets and you kept them. I didn’t know how rare that was, now I do.” Rosie stepped back and wiped a tear from her eye with the back of her hand. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve made me get all emotional.”

“Me, too,” Amanda confessed. Her lower lip quivered. A friend as good as Rosie was hard to find. Maybe that was why she’d never found another one. Maybe that was why she was here, because everyone was only allowed one best friend. If so, was it right to keep a secret from your best friend, even now, after being apart for so long? If it was the biggest secret of your life and the most shameful, it was. It had to be.

“Six o’clock,” Rosie said firmly. “My au pair is making fondue. And don’t worry. If the sheik is obnoxious, the hell with him.”

With those words ringing in her ears, Amanda drove slowly down the main street toward the hospital, passing restaurants and motels that catered to the ski crowd, including the one where she was staying. Rosie had invited her to stay with her, but Amanda wanted her own space. Even if it was only a room. It would do until she found an apartment.

The hospital was located one mile outside of town. It was small, smaller than she’d imagined. But then she was used to the big-city atmosphere of St. Vincent’s Hospital on Chicago’s north side with its adjoining medical school. Just its parking garage was ten times the size of this whole hospital. Amanda reminded herself that the town had built the hospital because they’d wanted it so badly. She also reminded herself she was looking for a change. It looked as if she was going to get it. Had she let Rosie’s natural enthusiasm delude her into thinking she could really be happy in a small mountain town full of rabid outdoor types?

Happy? What was that? All she asked was that she not be depressed. That she stop thinking about the past. That she not cry herself to sleep at night and dream about the one person she wanted most of all to forget. If she could achieve that much then she’d be content. Contentment was her goal. Only that. She had a long way to go just to get there.

As she walked into the lobby she noted a few patients in wheelchairs who glanced at her with curiosity and a lady in a hospital gown demanding something from the receptionist. The familiar smell of disinfectant was in the air causing her to feel apprehensive. Amanda had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. While she had never considered escaping from caregiving, from doctors and nurses, or from the gossip and the back biting in a hospital, she had thought she could possibly escape from her own fears and her own mistakes. She’d needed a change, but maybe this was not the place for the change. She had to get away from Chicago, but maybe she’d come too far. Or not far enough. She tried to imagine working here, but she couldn’t.

Instead of joining the hospital staff, maybe this sheik business was the way to go. It was a short-term job, no breach of contract if this wasn’t the right place for her. No obligations. The more she thought of it, the better it sounded.

Amanda told the receptionist whose name tag said Carrie who she was.

“You’re the nurse from Chicago,” Carrie said with a friendly smile. “How do you like it here?”

“It’s…it’s beautiful. I’ve never seen the Sierras before.”

“People call it paradise,” she said modestly. “You gonna take the job with the sheik?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s a handful. Cute, though. He doesn’t like being laid up, I can tell you. No patience. None whatsoever.” Carrie turned to the nurse’s aide who stopped to say hello and be introduced to the new nurse. “Am I right, Amy? The sheik in 34C. Isn’t he something else? Phone calls, visitors, flowers, people coming and going. But nothing seems to cheer him up. He’s got everything money can buy, but that’s not what he wants. He wants to walk out of here and he wants to leave today. Determined, wouldn’t you say, Amy?”

Amy agreed wholeheartedly. Amanda had had all kinds of patients, passive and easygoing, rich or indigent, willful, determined and obstinate. Some had visitors, some got flowers. Some were ignored. Those were the sad cases. It seemed to her the determined, stubborn types got well the fastest. It wasn’t based on anything scientific, it was just her observation. Someday she’d do a study on personality types and healing.

“You won’t believe this guy,” Carrie continued enthusiastically. “I don’t think I’ve seen him smile once. ’Course maybe I wouldn’t be smiling, either, with a tube between my ribs and a broken ankle. I felt so sorry for him I let him talk me into driving into town to get him the San Francisco newspaper and a pizza after I finished my shift. Says he can’t stand hospital food. I asked him, Well, who can? So he shrugs and says then buy enough for the whole floor. So I did after I checked with Dietary to see if it was okay. What could I say when he looked at me with those big brown eyes? Oh, he’s irresistible, if you like the long-suffering, rich, handsome type who use their charm to get their own way.” She giggled and waved her hand toward the hallway to her right. “Room 34C. Right down the hall.”

The more Amanda heard about the sheik the more she was sure he was just the type she’d have no trouble resisting at all. The type who used his money and influence to get more attention from an overworked staff. Not that Carrie seemed to mind, still…

Room 34C was almost dark. Only a small amount of late-afternoon sun filtered through the slanted blinds. A small table lamp glowed softly. Amanda didn’t expect anyone stuck in the hospital with multiple injuries to radiate happiness, but she didn’t expect such sadness. The somber expression on the face of the man in the bed and the sorrow in his deep dark eyes gave no hint of the man she’d heard about—the man possessed with only one thought, to get out of there or the extravagant rich guy who’d sent out for pizza for the whole floor.

She stood there in the doorway of his private room for a long moment studying him before he noticed her. He had a bandage around his forehead that contrasted with his dark hair. One large bandaged foot was propped up at the end of his bed. There were no visitors, no blaring TV as from the other rooms, no music, nothing. He was sitting up in bed staring straight ahead, lost in thought or perhaps semiconscious or in pain. Where were the visitors, the family, the friends?

At last he turned his head and saw her. He stared at her for at least as long as she’d stared at him. Steadily, unblinking. She wasn’t prepared for this. She was there to evaluate him, but she had the feeling he’d turned the tables on her. She balled her hands into fists. Her fingers were icy. What was he thinking? What was going on behind that bandaged forehead, what emotion lurked in the depths of those eyes?

She ought to say something. Introduce herself. Ask how he was. But she couldn’t speak. Her lips wouldn’t move, her throat was clogged. She told herself he was just a patient like every other patient she’d seen before. If she took him on he’d be just another patient to assess, evaluate, change bandages, check blood pressure, breathing, etc., etc. But standing there locked in this endless, wordless gaze with him, she knew deep down he was not like any other patient she’d ever had.

He was the one who finally broke the silence.

“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was deep and uneven. In the silence of the room it reverberated and struck a chord in her soul. His eyes narrowed. Before she could answer, he continued. “Don’t just stand there. Get in here. Open the blinds so I can see you.”

Like a mindless robot, she walked to the window and opened the blinds just slightly. He had the manner of one who gave orders and was used to having them obeyed. But she was not used to taking orders from patients and she wasn’t about to start now. She straightened her shoulders and found her voice. Not only her voice but her professional demeanor.

“I’m Amanda Reston. I’m a nurse.”

“Rahman Harun,” he said. “Forgive me for not getting up. May I say without insulting you or your profession that you don’t look like a nurse. Much too young. Much too beautiful.”

There it was. The so-called charm she’d expected. Next he’d tell her he was ready to go home and would she call a cab. If not, then he’d ask her to run into town for a six-pack and a hamburger. If he did, he’d soon find out she was not a messenger girl.

“I’m not on duty,” she said stiffly. If she was going to work for him, which was not at all certain at this point, she’d have to establish that she was in charge. That she could not be used or manipulated. That if he wanted to get well, he’d do what she said. She was a professional and she was accustomed to respect. At least from her patients.

“So what brings you by, Nurse Reston?” he said, his voice husky and breathless. “To see what a sheik looks like? To watch how the mighty have fallen?” He choked on a mirthless laugh and reached for a glass of water. She automatically handed it to him. He wrapped his blunt fingers around hers. Amanda felt a shock travel up her arm. Despite the need to remain professional, she almost dropped the glass. He was breathing hard. So was she.

“Are you okay?” she asked, setting the glass firmly in his hand. She should have asked herself the same question.

“I’m fine. Just great.” He gulped some water and pointed to the foot of his bed. “Read my chart there if you don’t believe me. Don’t be fooled by this bandage on my head, or the torn ligament in my ankle or that tube between my ribs. I’m really fine. So fine I’m going home as soon as I can get a…hey, that’s you, isn’t it? You’re the hotshot nurse who’s going to go home with me.

“I heard all about you. They thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t. Ten years in ICU as a trauma nurse. I thought you’d be about fifty pounds heavier, have gray hair and thick ankles.” He tilted his head to one side to get a better look at her. His gaze lingered on the contours of her lower body under her stretch pants. It was so intense Amanda felt her knees shake. She blushed and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, wishing she’d never come.

She didn’t want to take on a patient who affected her this way. She told herself he was just checking her out the way she was evaluating him. After all, he was the one who’d be hiring her. He had a right to pick someone older with more experience and thicker ankles if that’s what he wanted. Why she was reacting like a juvenile instead of a mature woman, she didn’t know.

“From what I can see, I’ve lucked out, for once. So let’s go, Amanda Reston.” He swung his good leg over the side of the bed and reached for the buzzer to summon the nurse.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Amanda said, lifting his leg back onto the bed. “You haven’t been discharged yet and I haven’t said I’d take the job. I’m new here in town. I just got here and I don’t know what my options are. And I’m not sure I’d be right for you.”

She was not going to let the sheik call the shots or make her feel like a sex object any more than she’d let an arrogant surgeon do those things. She had not jumped out of the frying pan in Chicago into the fire in this mountain paradise. If she took the job, it would be her decision. She wouldn’t be pressured or charmed. Sure, he was handsome and determined, but that wasn’t enough to sell her on the idea of taking him on. Just the reverse. She didn’t need to be around a man who affected her like this one did without even trying.

He glared at her. “Options. You’ve got options. Good for you. I had options a few days ago, but as of now, I’m fresh out What’s all this about being right for me? It’s just a job, Nurse Reston. I can’t afford to be choosy. If I don’t get a private-duty nurse, I have to stay here.” He gazed around at the walls as if the room were a prison. To him, it probably was.

Rather than debate the merits of hospital accommodations, she changed the subject. “How did it happen?” she asked.

“The accident? The usual. I was taking a last run and I lost control and rolled down the hill. Do you ski?”

Amanda shook her head.

“It’s a great sport. There’s nothing like it. The speed, the wind in your face, the mountains…” For a brief moment there was a half smile on his craggy face. She caught a glimpse of what he might have been before the accident, only a short time ago. She felt a pang of sympathy mingled with curiosity. This wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all. She had to keep her professional distance. But she couldn’t help wondering, what was he like before it happened? She’d never know.

“Until you fall and puncture your lung,” she concluded dryly.

“Do you believe in accidents?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t. I believe you get what you deserve. I was pushing the envelope. I was asking for it, just like…” He took a shallow breath, leaned forward and pinned her with his gaze. “It was my fault. Whatever happened was because of what I did. I was careless. So I’m paying the price for my so-called accident. That’s the way it should be. This accident did not happen by chance. It happened for a reason.” He put so much emphasis on every word of that last sentence, it seemed to exhaust him. He let his head fall back on the pillow and closed his eyes. His forehead was furrowed.

Concerned, Amanda sat on a stool by the bed and took his pulse. It was fast but strong. Before she could remove her hand, Rahman grabbed it with his other hand. For someone so badly injured, he had surprising strength.

“Cold hands,” he murmured, his eyes drifting open and then shut again. “We have a saying in Arabic, ‘Cold hands mean warm heart.”’ His voice faded to a whisper. “Is that true? Is your heart warm, Amanda?”

Had he really said that, or had she just imagined it? In any case, it was fortunate the question didn’t require an answer, because she couldn’t have articulated one. For the second time this afternoon she was speechless. Luckily no one was taking her pulse because she felt it speed up uncontrollably. What on earth was wrong with her? It must be the altitude. That was it. Some people got dizzy, others got breathless or had an increased heart rate. Although she’d been in the mountains for two days with no ill effects, she was suddenly in the throes of some kind of altitude sickness. Or…

In any case, whether she had a warm heart or not was none of the sheik’s business. Amanda knew she ought to leave. She’d seen enough and heard enough. More than enough. But though he appeared to have dropped off into semiconsciousness, he was still holding her hand so tightly that she couldn’t pull it away. Couldn’t or wouldn’t? She sat there for a long moment, mesmerized by the scent of spring flowers from the bouquets in vases, the pattern of sunlight on the bed, the warmth of his hand in hers. A current of energy seemed to flow from her to him and back again. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to leave. But of course she had to.

No. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be his nurse. Couldn’t take care of him twenty-four hours a day. Couldn’t live in his ski cabin. She’d come here for a break. She could not afford one bit of emotional involvement with anyone. Not with a doctor, not with a patient. All she wanted was to live quietly and simply. Alone. To leave her work at the end of the day and not take it home with her. Underneath the scent of freesias and hyacinths, she smelled danger in this room. A threat to her new life and the serenity she was looking for. Inside her chest she felt her heart bang against her ribs. It felt like fear. She’d tell Rosie tonight she couldn’t do it. Rosie would understand.

When Amanda finally pulled her hand loose from Rahman’s grasp, he gave a ragged sigh and mumbled something she couldn’t understand about being sorry. Glancing back toward him as she tiptoed to the door, she nearly ran into the tall figure standing in the doorway. She gasped in surprise. The man was the mirror image of the sheik in the bed. Or what Rahman would look like if he was healthy. Had she gone crazy? Was she seeing double?

“You must be the nurse,” he said. “I’m Rafik, Rahman’s brother. Can I have a word with you?”

“Of course,” she said softly and they walked down the hall to the lounge together while she practiced what she would say to him.

I’m not going to take the job. I can’t take care of your brother. It has nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. I’m in recovery, too. Some things I can handle. Some things I can’t. A man like your brother falls into the latter category. I’m sorry, but I’m not the right person for the job.




Chapter Two


“Well, what did you think?” Rosie asked the minute Amanda walked into her friend’s kitchen where the fondue was bubbling on the stove and the air was filled with the rich aroma of cheese and kirsch.

“He’s in bad shape,” Amanda said, hanging her jacket on a hook near the door.

Rosie nodded and handed her friend a glass of white wine.

“More than you can manage? Worse than you thought?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” What could she say? How to explain that after all these years of professional nursing, a patient had touched her somewhere that was off limits. And that she was still reeling from the shock.

At that moment, Rosie’s husband Jake burst in the back door. “Welcome to California, Amanda. I hope you’re here to stay.” His face was ruddy, his voice was booming. Amanda had only met him once, at their wedding back in Chicago, Rosie’s hometown, but he greeted her with a welcoming hug as if he was as glad to see her as his wife was. Then he kissed Rosie as if he hadn’t seen her for weeks instead of hours and Amanda felt a pang of most unbecoming envy. Their affection for each other was out in the open for all to see. The way it should be. No sneaking around. Hiding from sight. Fearing being caught. It was clear they’d forged solid, unbreakable ties that nothing could separate.

Overriding the envy was happiness for her friend. When Rosie alluded to her secrets, Amanda knew they weren’t all happy ones. Rosie had put in her time, had had her share of heartbreak and disappointment. What was it Rahman had said he believed? “You get what you deserve.” Was that true? Did Amanda deserve what she’d gotten? To have her heart broken? She hoped not. If she had, she had turned over a new leaf in a new place. Never again would a man take advantage of her. Never again would she be fooled into trusting a man.

If Amanda was envious at meeting Rosie’s husband, she was more so when she saw the three-year-old twin girls, Sara and Nora. She got down on her knees and put an arm around each one of them. This was certainly her day for twins, she thought. Unlike Rahman and his brother Rafik, these two were identical in energy, charm and looks. Over their mother’s protests, the girls dragged Amanda to their room to show her their beds, their dolls, their toy house, their pet hamster and their books. They asked her a million questions.

They climbed into her lap, they combed her hair with their Barbie doll’s tiny comb and brush. Amanda felt a cold lump in her chest she didn’t know was there start to melt away. Felt the tension of the day fade as fast as the sun set behind the mountains. She could have gladly stayed there all evening, playing pretend games. Pretending that these were her children, this was her life. Pretending she didn’t have a tough job ahead of her.

Amanda didn’t know what had happened to her. She’d never longed for children the way Rosie had. But now that she’d seen these two, now that they were so close she could smell their baby shampoo, feel their soft skin and hear their little voices chatter away, she’d had a vision, an epiphany. This is what it could be like, should be like. Only it wasn’t.

She came back to earth with a thud. She was pretending just like the children. She’d had quite a day. First, she was still in shock, coming to a small mountain community from a big city only a few days ago. Second, she was in culture shock from meeting the twin sheiks. One intense, demanding, difficult, and maddeningly attractive despite everything. The other kind and persuasive. Just as good-looking, but there was no tension between them. No electric current flowed between them the way it had between Rahman and herself. Of course, if it wasn’t the altitude that caused her reaction to Rahman, it could be a reaction to what she’d left behind, to the man who’d deceived her. Amanda knew she was vulnerable. She knew her heart had been ripped out of her chest and broken in two. She needed time to heal, just like Rahman did. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to tell her that.

When the au pair came to retrieve the little girls for their baths, they kissed Amanda good-night and she reluctantly went back to the kitchen to help Rosie toss the salad.

“The girls are crazy about you,” Rosie said as the three of them sat down at the candlelit dining room table.

“It’s mutual,” Amanda said. “I’m gaga over them. They’re the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you,” Rosie said with a proud smile. “Now have some fondue and then tell us what happened with the sheik.”

“I met him and I decided I couldn’t do it,” she said.

“Why, what did he say? How did he act?” Rosie asked.

“Just the way I’d expected. Impatient, arrogant, demanding. I told myself life is too short to spend it on somebody like that.”

“Of course he’s sick,” Rosie interjected. “Being sick brings out the worst in anyone.”

“I know. I know. I tried to make allowances for that. He has every right to be cranky. He’s obviously in pain. He’s frustrated. He’s used to being in charge. Suddenly he’s immobilized. Has to ring a bell when he wants something. It’s difficult. It’s humiliating.” As she said the words she pictured the man in the bed, his gaze haunting her even now, hours later. She remembered the way he held her hand and she held his.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to say ‘but…?”’ Rosie asked with a smile.

“But he’s a sheik,” Amanda reiterated. “I don’t know for sure, but I have the feeling the traits I saw today will be there when he gets well. I suspect that he’s spoiled and that he’s always gotten everything he’s ever wanted.” If so, then why the sad look when he thought no one was looking? Maybe he hadn’t really gotten everything he’d ever wanted. “I’ve dealt with a lot of difficult patients, but this man…”

“He got to you, didn’t he?” Rosie asked, her forehead puckered in a frown. “That’s not like you. Not like the old cool and calm Amanda. You were such a natural in the trauma center. Nothing rattled you. But this guy rattled you, I can tell. How come?”

“Maybe I felt sorry for him and I didn’t want to.” Maybe I was attracted to him and I didn’t want to be. “I don’t know.”

Amanda played over their conversation as she ate her salad. Why had Rahman gotten to her? Why had she reacted so strongly? She’d had good-looking male patients before. Patients who flirted with her and who tried to make passes at her from their hospital beds. She’d been able to rebuff them pleasantly and firmly and that was the end of it. Rahman hadn’t even really flirted with her.

“Sorry,” Amanda said jolted out of her reverie. “Did you ask me something?”

“I gather you’ve decided not to take his case then,” Rosie said.

“No, despite what I said, I’m going to do it.”

“What?” Rosie’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“A funny thing happened on my way out of Rahman’s room. I ran into Rafik. That’s the sheik’s twin brother. He’s everything Rahman isn’t. He’s very nice and low-key and thoughtful. He asked if he could talk to me and we went to the lounge where I told him I couldn’t take the case.

“He said he understood but asked me to think it over. Maybe if I saw the place…So we drove to the ski ‘cabin’ as you call it. And you’re right, it’s a beautiful house, all done in natural wood and stone with a spectacular view of the lake. They’ve ordered every kind of equipment you can think of for his recovery. A veritable rehab unit right there on the lake with a year-round housekeeper who is a great cook, if the smells coming from the kitchen are any indication.

“I met the whole family, his brother’s wife, his cousin, his wife and a few others I’m not sure who they were. They convinced me to take on Rahman. They said he hasn’t been himself lately. It’s not just his accident. It’s other things, too. Apparently he’s not only hurting physically, he’s also hurting emotionally. They didn’t say what the other things were. I suppose it’s none of my business.”

“So they talked you into it,” Rosie said. “I hope it works out.”

“So do I because the die is cast. The family is all leaving town to go back to San Francisco now that they’ve found me.”

“I hope they know how lucky they are,” Rosie said emphatically.

“They’re definitely making it worth my while,” Amanda admitted. “I’m not just doing it out of the goodness of my heart. They’ve offered me a lot of money and I get to live in that gorgeous house.” That didn’t change the fact that she was risking her newfound serenity. That she wasn’t at all sure it was the right thing to do.

“When will the hospital discharge him?” Rosie asked.

“I’ll talk to the doctor tomorrow. The house isn’t quite ready yet. Needless to say Rahman is impatient.”

“You can ask Doc Flanders about his discharge,” Rosie said. “I’m so glad this has worked out. I hope…well I hope I haven’t led you astray.”

“It’s too soon to say it’s worked out, but whatever happens, it was my decision. You never pressured me.” Amanda tried to sound calm and confident, but in fact her stomach did flip-flops at the thought of staying under the same roof as the sheik. Being with him night and day. Hearing him moan in his sleep. Administering his medicine round the clock. Sitting by the side of his bed monitoring his lung capacity, testing him for complications or distress.

She knew she could help him recover. But what would happen to her in the process? For Rahman to get well, she would need his help. He had to make the effort. Did he have the drive, the will to help her help him? She kept seeing his face, his hollow eyes. She kept hearing his deep voice tell her that things happened for a reason. If Rahman didn’t believe he deserved to recover, he might not.

The next day, Amanda was back at the hospital. After talking to the doctor and Rahman’s family, it was decided to release him after the house was renovated and at least partly ready for him. In addition to what had already been done, workmen had been dispatched to install ramps for Rahman’s wheelchair and a hospital bed was to be installed in a bedroom on the first floor.

Amanda should have been flattered the doctor had so much faith in her that he’d consider discharging Rahman so soon. Of course, Dr. Flanders may have had other motives for getting rid of the patient who was consistently asking the nurses for something. She also should have been flattered that Rahman’s family had placed their confidence in her. But they had been desperate and had little choice. Even if Amanda should have been flattered, she wasn’t.

All she felt was cold on the outside and hollow on the inside. She was worried. Worried about this kind of heavy-duty nursing. Worried about their nurse-patient relationship. One-on-one contact with a man who’d had such a strange effect on her. She told herself she was being overly sensitive. He was just another patient. To be treated like all her other patients. Amanda repeated it to herself until it had sunk in.

She looked at herself in the mirror in the hospital restroom. She didn’t look nervous. She’d had years of practice of not showing emotion in front of her patients. Sometimes she had kept this mask on in her private life as well. Today, she needed it more than ever. Nobody wanted a nurse who had doubts about her job. She practiced a bright smile. Not bad for someone who wanted to run out the front door and take the first plane back to Chicago. From the frying pan into the fire was the phrase that kept running through her mind.

Amanda kept the smile pasted on her face when she headed to Rahman’s room. She thought he’d be delighted to be getting out so soon. He was far from it. She stood outside the room and listened to him rant and rave at his family.

“You’re leaving? Everyone is leaving and going about their lives while I waste away here by myself? Transfer me to a hospital in San Francisco,” he shouted. Only his shout came out like a wheeze. “I’m not staying here.”

A woman spoke in a soft lightly accented voice. “Rahman,” she said. “Calm down. You’re in no condition to travel. You know that. As soon as you are, you can come home. Everything is arranged. The house is being set up and we have hired you a wonderful nurse. We met her yesterday and we were very impressed. She’s been highly recommended.”

“Highly recommended by who? The doctors at this hospital? They’ll do anything to get rid of me. That’s fine with me. I want to leave. I don’t need some special nurse. How do they know what I need? Get me out of this place. I’m going home. And I don’t mean the ski cabin.”

A gruff-voiced older man spoke next. “You can’t go back to the city. Not yet. You’re much too sick. You’ve had a serious accident. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Lucky? You think I’m lucky? Have you ever been confined to a bed all hours of the day except to hobble to the bathroom? Had to take a stack of pills just to keep the pain from taking over? To feel like hell all the time anyway? To think you’re losing your mind as well as the use of your legs. Not to be able to get enough air to breathe? You call that lucky?”

“Rahman!” the woman said in a voice full of indignation.

“Sorry, Father,” Rahman said, in a subdued tone.

Amanda stood outside the door wishing she hadn’t heard all that. She had thought everything was in order. She had thought he was reconciled to staying at the ski cabin. She had thought he’d be grateful to his family. What had caused this outburst? He sounded like a spoiled brat. Should she sneak away and pretend she’d never heard anything at all? As she was pondering her choices, Rahman’s twin brother came out and greeted her.

“I assume you heard all that,” he said with a grim look.

“I’m afraid so.”

“He doesn’t mean it. He’s upset because we’re leaving.”

She gave him her best hospital smile, totally insincere and hoped he wouldn’t notice. “It’s understandable,” she said. But it certainly wasn’t a good way to start this job. As if she hadn’t been worried enough. Now she knew how desperately Rahman didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to be left behind, and didn’t want to have her for his nurse. It hurt more than it should, even though she knew enough not to take it personally. She was being ridiculous and far too sensitive. She knew perfectly well how he was feeling—helpless, insecure, and in real pain.

“Good. I’m glad you understand,” his brother said.

“I’ll come back later,” Amanda said. “When things have calmed down.”

His room was empty. His family had finally left to go to dinner at some lakeside restaurant. Rahman wanted them to stay, but he was also glad to see them leave. He loved them but he couldn’t stand to be around them. They were driving him crazy with their lectures and their orders. But without them he was unbearably lonely. He sometimes felt he was losing his mind just when he needed it the most. It must be the medicine that made him so ambivalent. In the past, he had been able to pretty much do whatever he wanted. Now he had to rely on others for everything and it was not a good feeling. He’d always had an strong independent streak. He’d never minded being alone because he knew Rafik was around and Lisa and the rest of his family.

But now…he had no one. Even his twin brother, his closest friend in the world, didn’t seem to understand what he was going through. Ever since Rafik’s marriage there had been a gap between them. Now more than ever. He saw the way Rafik looked at him, the one person who ought to sympathize was baffled and annoyed by his behavior.

Rahman watched the sun set behind the mountains with heavy-lidded eyes. It was hard to believe he’d been on top of those mountains only days ago. How many days? He didn’t know. The days and nights blended together. Whenever he fell asleep, someone came in and woke him up to take his temperature or give him some medicine. The lights in the hall were on all day and all night. He didn’t know which was which. Nurses came and went. He couldn’t keep them straight.

Except for the one called Amanda. The one who was going to go home with him, no matter how much he objected. She was different. He could never mistake her for the others. She radiated calm and serenity and excited him at the same time.

Why didn’t she wear white like the other nurses? She wore those stretch pants over a pair of incredible legs. What would she wear when she was taking care of him? His mind conjured up all kinds of pictures. Amanda in a starchy white dress, Amanda in a blue turtleneck sweater that matched her eyes and showed off her curves. He felt his pulse speed up. What would happen to his vital signs when she was around 24/7?

He didn’t want her.

He hated the idea of a young attractive nurse taking care of him as if he were a baby. It was going to be humiliating to have her giving him his food and his medicine and telling him what to do and him being in no condition to resist. If he had to have a woman take care of him, she should at least be old and ugly. How hard could it be to find an old and ugly nurse? How hard could it be to hire a helicopter to airlift him out of here and back to the city? His family obviously hadn’t tried very hard. They didn’t know it, and he wasn’t going to tell them, but if he spent much time with Amanda he was going to want things he couldn’t have.

He was going to avoid all future entanglements with women. No more thrill-seekers like Lisa and especially no women like Amanda, a woman whose life was devoted to taking care of people. He didn’t want to be taken care of. Not by anyone. He was through with women of any kind. He’d had his chance, then fate had intervened and taken away the most vibrant, exciting woman he’d ever met. There wouldn’t be another like her. Destiny had decreed a life of loneliness for him and he’d damned well better get used to it.

He closed his eyes and his mind drifted. What was wrong with him? He kept seeing Amanda even though she wasn’t there. Hallucinations, that’s what it was. He remembered how she looked standing there in his doorway the first time he saw her. He thought he’d died and gone to heaven for one brief moment. He remembered falling asleep with her at his bedside and waking up without that groggy, drugged feeling. That was a good thing. But it would never happen again. He couldn’t ask her to hold his hand every night at bedtime. Yes, he was sick, but that’s not what nurses did. He kicked the metal bed frame with his good foot and winced. Damn this accident. Damn this little town and its hospital.

When he looked up she was standing in the doorway again. But was she really there? Or was it just another illusion? If she was real, he wished he’d had time to sit up and try to look alert, at least run his fingers through his hair. He hated it when he saw pity in the nurses’ eyes. That was one good thing about her, there was no pity in her eyes. There was something else, but he didn’t know what to call it.

“Don’t you ever knock?” he growled.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she said.

“I wasn’t asleep,” he said.

“How are you feeling?”

“You’re the nurse. You know everything. You tell me.”

“You have a healthy attitude,” she said.

“Is that what you call it?”

“I have a theory that the most obnoxious patients, the ones who fight back are the ones who get well the fastest.”

“You think I’m obnoxious?”

“I think your behavior is.”

His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “You could be right.” Rahman looked her over for a long moment. Amanda was wearing a blue turtleneck sweater and dark wool pants, almost exactly what he’d pictured her in. He felt a surge of sexual awareness rocket through his body. It caught him by surprise. He thought his responses were all numb. He didn’t expect to feel anything ever again. But there it was.

Even though he couldn’t do anything about it, it was a good sign. At least that part of him was still functional. For all the good it did him. In any case it was something to be celebrated. Or was it? Would it just lead to more frustration? One more thing he couldn’t do? “Come in and sit down,” he said. “Is this a social call or professional?”

“Both.” She sat on the little stool next to his bed. Just where she was the last time she was here. “I know how you feel about staying here in town and having me as your nurse.”

“What are you, psychic?” He told himself she was bluffing. She couldn’t possibly know that she turned him on and that was the real reason he didn’t want her around, didn’t trust himself with her around, didn’t want to be tempted when he couldn’t perform and was through with women for good, could she?

“I was standing outside the door when you were talking to your family. When you insisted they take you back with them and you said you didn’t need me.”

“I don’t remember that. I must have been delirious. Of course I need you. My family thinks you’re the greatest. Who am I to disagree?” What else could he say? He’d been trained all his life in etiquette and hospitality. Though he and his brother had been sent to boarding school in the U.S., his upbringing had been traditional. His parents had instilled in him the values of their family and their country such as loyalty and responsibility. He hadn’t always lived up to those values as his father often had occasion to remind him.

What possible reason could he give for objecting to her? That she was too attractive, too sexy in a subdued kind of way that got to him? That he didn’t trust himself around her? That he didn’t want to be humiliated around her? That he preferred to get well on his own without her watching and monitoring him every step of the way? No, he was resigned to staying here and having her around night and day. There was nothing he could do about it.

“Well, if you’re sure…” she said.

“What about you? Why in hell would you want to take me on with my obnoxious attitude? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“I was looking for a challenge.”

“Hah. Well, sweetheart, you’ve got one.”

She pressed her lips together and her cheeks flushed. He’d said something to annoy her.

“You can call me Amanda or Nurse Reston but you can’t call me sweetheart. I’m a professional.”

So that was it. How could she know that being told he couldn’t do something was all the incentive he needed to do it anyway? “Of course you are, sweetheart,” he said.

Her eyes flashed. Damn, she was cute when she was mad. It only encouraged him to see what else he could say to bring color to her cheeks and sparkle to her eyes.

“Sorry,” he said. But he wasn’t and she knew it.

“I hear you don’t like hospital food. Can I bring you something from town? I’m on my way to dinner.”

“Alone?”

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“It was just a question. You’re not required to answer. But since we’re going to be living together, I don’t think we should have any secrets from each other.” As soon as he said those words, he regretted them. While he was intensely curious about her, he had no intention of sharing any of his secrets with her.

“I don’t agree. I think we need to establish a professional relationship. I believe I already told you that I’m new in town and therefore I will be eating alone tonight at the Japanese restaurant.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I was out of line. It’s none of my business who you eat with. If you really don’t mind, you could bring me something. Anything would be better than the slop they serve here.”

“All right.”

Even though it was none of his business who she ate with or whether she was married or engaged or whatever, he thought it was a good sign she was eating alone. What husband or fiancé in his right mind would let her go by herself to a new town and be forced to eat alone? He certainly wouldn’t. Not that it mattered whether she was available or not. He wasn’t. He had sworn off women after Lisa’s accident. He would never take on the responsibility of a woman again. He would never set himself up to suffer like that again.

She nodded and stood up. “I’ll tell the nurses you don’t want a dinner tray and I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“This is embarrassing. I don’t have any money. They’ve taken away my ring and my watch and my wallet. But I’m good for it.”

She smiled. And what a smile. It warmed him more than all those hot compresses the therapist put on his hip. “I’m sure you are,” she said.

“You ought to do that more often,” he said.

“What, go out for Japanese food?”

“Smile.”

She stopped at the door and stared at him for a long thoughtful moment. Her smile faded. He would have given everything in his wallet to know what she was thinking. Their eyes met and held for a long time. In the background doctors were being paged. Carts were clattering down the hall. All the sounds that usually irritated him. Now he scarcely heard them. What or who had taken away her smile? Who or what could bring it back? A long time ago, when he was a man-about-town, he’d have considered it his personal challenge. But now he didn’t know if he had what it took.

“I’ll think about it,” she said finally and then she was gone. The room was empty again.

She did think about it. While all around her at various tables, apple-cheeked skiers in casual après-ski clothes laughed and talked and traded stories of what happened on the slopes that day, Amanda thought about the reason she didn’t smile much anymore. She thought how odd it was that a stranger had to point it out. Someone who didn’t know her. If he knew what had happened he would have told her she’d been a fool. He wasn’t worth suffering over. But Rahman didn’t know and she was not going to tell. There were secrets she didn’t intend to share with anyone, least of all him.

When she came back to the hospital with a foam box in a white paper bag from the restaurant in her hand she was stopped by the night nurse who informed her stiffly that visiting hours were over.

Amanda explained who she was and where she was going and got a shrug and a disapproving look in return.

“That man,” the nurse said huffily, “has been pushing his buzzer for the last hour. He wanted a phone, a TV, a pain pill and his wallet. I’m a nurse, not a servant. I’m all alone here on this floor. He’s not the only patient in this hospital. Who does he think he is anyway?”

Amanda bit back an angry retort. She should have hurried back. It was her fault he was left alone without the care he needed. She usually sympathized with nurses. She knew some patients were demanding. The sheik fell into that category at times. But she was also well aware that not all nurses were warm, sympathetic and caring. She tried to make allowances for burnout and fatigue, but this woman’s attitude annoyed her. She almost blurted, “That’s my patient you’re talking about.” She caught herself before she started to feel possessive about the sheik. She reminded herself he was just another patient. Just another sheik.

“You know he’s probably hungry and he’s tired and he’s impatient,” Amanda said. “I brought him something to eat.”

“Dinner is at five,” she sniffed. “The trays have come and gone.”

“I know, that’s why I…” Why bother to explain? This pinched-faced RN was of the old school that said everything had to be done by the book. Amanda felt bad she’d taken so long at dinner. She could imagine that lying there in bed watching the clock and waiting for dinner or a nurse to come could be agony. Though she’d never been hospitalized, she could certainly empathize. But the nurse who looked at her with a steely gaze, obviously couldn’t.

“I’m hungry, too,” the nurse said. “And tired, and I have eight hours to go.”

“I’m sorry. I know how it feels. I’ve worked a lot of night shifts.” Amanda knew it was not easy working alone at night. Being responsible for all those patients. With a doctor a phone call away anything could happen and often did.

When the nurse pointedly picked up her pencil and went back to work filling out forms, Amanda hurried down the hall to find that Sheik Rahman Harun had fallen asleep. She stood next to his bed feeling deflated that she’d let him down. He’d been waiting for her and she hadn’t made it back in time. The restaurant had been crowded and the service was slow. But he didn’t know that. He just knew she hadn’t shown up with his dinner as she’d promised.

She thought about waking him up, but she didn’t. He needed his sleep. But he needed food, too. His cheekbones were too prominent. She touched his shoulder. Smoothed his sheet. He frowned but he didn’t wake up. She stood there for a long time trying to decide what to do. She hadn’t realized how much she was looking forward to bringing him something and seeing him eat. Though she wasn’t looking forward to hearing him make any more outrageous pronouncements like, “I don’t think we should keep any secrets from each other.” She was unaccountably disappointed. But was she disappointed for his sake or hers?

Amanda had no intention of spilling any of her secrets to him. If she did, she could just imagine what he’d think of her. She couldn’t believe he’d share any secrets with her, either. Maybe he didn’t have any. Although there was that issue of his suffering “emotionally.” The remark he’d made was only to get her goat. At first he’d succeeded, now she realized she could talk back and he liked it. She liked it, too. If all went well, they might become friends. Friends. Was it possible to be a friend to a man like that? Time would tell.

He’d probably guessed she wasn’t engaged or married. That was going to come out in the wash anyway. But that was the extent of the secrets she was sharing. Period.

Rahman mumbled something in his sleep. Amanda bent over his bed to listen but he didn’t say any more. Only inches from his face, she brushed his dark thick hair back. She laid her hand on his forehead and kept it there. She told herself she would make him get well. She could do it. She knew she could. She willed him to sleep well, to sleep peacefully. She didn’t know how long she stayed there. She only knew his breathing slowed and sounded normal.

Some time later she stood and found her leg muscles stiff and cramped. She walked slowly back to the nurse’s station.

The nurse looked up at Amanda, glanced at her watch and frowned. Amanda set the bag with Rahman’s dinner on the counter and told her it was for her. The woman looked startled, then suspicious, then she grudgingly accepted it. Amanda muttered, “you’re welcome,” to herself as she walked out the front door of the hospital feeling frustrated and sorry for the overworked nurse and even sorrier for Rahman.

She went back out into the cold mountain air and drove to her motel room, took a hot bath, lay on her queen-size bed and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow night she’d be under the same roof as Rahman. Would he soon turn her into a crabby, cranky nurse, annoyed and resentful every time he rang for her on the house intercom? Or would she get too emotionally involved in nursing him back to health? She couldn’t let that happen. It was better that she turn into a hag who barked orders. He wasn’t the only one who needed to be nursed back to health.

As Rahman noticed, she didn’t have a ready smile except for rare occasions. But she’d come here to make a fresh start. She’d do what she could within the bounds of her profession and then send him back to San Francisco. And then what? What would she do? She didn’t see herself working at that hospital. Was it too small after living and working in the fast lane? What about Rosie and her life? How could Amanda have what she had? A career, a husband and two adorable children.

She reminded herself that her goals were much more modest than that. To fall asleep at night without dreaming of the arrogant doctor she’d left behind. To face each day with some kind of enthusiasm instead of dread. To regain the joy of helping others get well, to remember why she’d become a nurse in the first place. If she could accomplish that much, the trip would have been worthwhile.

She repeated these goals like a mantra and finally she did fall asleep and she did not dream at all. That in itself was a blessing and worth the price of the airline ticket.

The next day, there was so much activity at the hospital that Amanda didn’t have time for second thoughts about this unusual assignment. Rahman’s family was there and greeted her warmly. They hovered over him in his room while Amanda conferred with doctors and nurses, the pharmacist and the therapist. She spoke to everyone in sight except for Rahman. She saw him only briefly and only from a distance. She felt his eyes on her. She saw him frown. She knew she owed him an explanation about dinner. She wanted to apologize, but she never got a chance. She went around and make appointments with the therapist and his doctor to come to the house. An orderly pushed Rahman in his wheelchair to the curb where an ambulance was waiting.

He wasn’t happy to see the ambulance. She could tell by the way he said, “Where’s the car…? What the hell…” in an angry voice that carried to where she was standing at the glass doors to the hospital.

There was continued chaos at the house they called their ski cabin. Workmen were building a ramp to the back door like the one in front. The therapist was installing a massage table in the ballroom along with some parallel bars. The housekeeper introduced herself and said that dinner was at seven. Family members wandered in and out, conferring with each other in hushed voices as if they were at a wake.

Amanda and the orderly maneuvered Rahman into his hospital bed in the room that used to be a study. Two whole walls were lined with books, the other two had windows with views of the lake and the mountains. There was a fireplace with a fire already laid. How could Rahman object to staying there? A view, a fireplace and a housekeeper, too. But Amanda knew what he wanted. What every patient wanted. To get back his old life, the one he’d had before the accident.





Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Получить полную версию книги.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/carol-grace/falling-for-the-sheik/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.