Книга - Secret Sheikh, Secret Baby

Secret Sheikh, Secret Baby
CAROL MARINELLI








Secret Sheikh, Secret Baby

Carol Marinelli





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




Table of Contents


Cover (#u43cb4868-1ac2-5837-a861-90dd2244678c)

Title Page (#u6622a834-b597-5eb2-a38f-ffde4df2abf2)

Praise (#u65f61a71-af74-5cd3-881a-861ca96eec90)

About the Author (#ud298bddd-f40e-5c9a-8c29-2fd2287dfea2)

CHAPTER ONE (#ubb940876-08b2-5dfd-8ee7-80cb2e7aedca)

CHAPTER TWO (#u3084d3bb-630d-5edb-b50a-e7e7da6ee35c)

CHAPTER THREE (#uab36e079-6ad4-50d5-9ea9-6f20028235d8)

CHAPTER FOUR (#u939b47f3-d6f7-506a-b801-5cb3543c67d9)

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)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Did you know that Carol Marinelli also writes sensationally sexy, glitteringly glamorous books for Mills & Boon® Modern™ Romance?

Praise for Carol Marinelli:

BOUGHT BY THE BILLIONAIRE PRINCE

‘Carol Marinelli’s…engaging and sexy couple make for a delightful romantic getaway.’

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

EXPECTING HIS LOVE-CHILD

‘EXPECTING HIS LOVE-CHILD is an extremely poignant love story that runs the gamut of emotions.’

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews


Carol Marinelli recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title, and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as writer. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation. After chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—writing. The third question asked—What are your hobbies? Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered swimming and tennis. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!




CHAPTER ONE


THE hotel was stunning.

Dashing through the luxurious foyer, Felicity Anderson would have loved to pause and take in her surroundings—or even, given that she had been caught in the rain on her dash from the London underground, race to the ladies’ room and fix her hair and make-up. Her long, wavy blonde hair was tied back, and had early this morning been tamed with hair serum, but the run in the rain from the underground station would have undone all her hard work. There just wasn’t time to worry about it. The information session started at ten a.m., and, glancing at her watch, Felicity grimaced because it was already a quarter past. Meticulous and punctual, she had arranged to arrive at nine and linger in a café beforehand, but track works had caused ‘unexpected delays’ on her train from the north of England, which meant that Felicity was, whether she liked it or not, unforgivably late.

The concierge had pointed her in the right direction for the conference room, and Felicity followed the discreet signs until she found the venue. There a pretty woman who introduced herself as Noor was sitting at the desk outside, and waved away Felicity’s apologies.

‘We are just glad that you made it.’ Noor had thick, long, dark hair that was no doubt rather more neatly tied back than Felicity’s. She was wearing an immaculate navy trouser suit, and her manicured hands held out a pen as she asked Felicity to sign the attendance register. ‘On now is the introductory presentation about the hospital and the imminent opening of the university.’ The dark-haired beauty handed Felicity a heavy bag which contained brochures and forms. ‘You can look through them all later—come, I will take you through. Just stand at the back till the presentation ends, and then take a seat. We really are so pleased to see you, Felicity, and delighted that you are considering us. Zaraqua Hospital urgently needs good midwives.’

Felicity was just a little taken back by the warmth of Noor’s welcome. But then all her dealings with Zaraqua Hospital had been pleasant. She felt a little bit guilty too—though she had explained that she already had a job in the Middle East lined up, bar signing on the dotted line, and was coming to the recruitment information session only out of last-minute curiosity. As a qualified midwife she knew her skills were in heavy demand, and she wanted to be sure she was making the right choice, but really her decision was almost made.

The room was in darkness, just illuminated by the light of the vast screen as Felicity slipped in. Standing quietly, she watched the presentation, her decision wavering as she saw the stunning golden beaches of the Mediterranean sea that gave way to vast, vast desert. The Kingdom of Zaraq was an island with its own royal family, Felicity learnt, and its own deep traditions, though it was progressive too. An all-female university was opening, so the new generation of Zaraq women wouldn’t have to leave the island and go overseas to be afforded first-class education. The fact that the university was an all-female environment appeased the more traditional families.

The information about the university was riveting to listen to, but it was the hospital Felicity was especially interested in. Her attention was utterly focussed as she was led through the lavish corridors, glimpsing plush suites, and her eyes widened as the impressive equipment and facilities were listed—this healthcare was available to all the people of Zaraq.

So focussed was Felicity that at first she barely registered the person who quietly came in. But as he stood beside her she knew that it was a man without turning her head. A delicious scent reached her nostrils, but more than that there was a presence, an all-male presence, that dragged her attention from the screen. Felicity turned her head and nodded an acknowledgment to the man. But then she couldn’t, or didn’t, immediately turn her face away.

Even in darkness his beauty was evident. Instead of leaning against the wall, as Felicity was, he stood to an impressive height. His hair was cropped close to his head, and she saw sculpted features, a straight nose, and deep shadows beneath his cheekbones, and eyes that in the darkness momentarily held hers. He gave a brief nod and she jerked her eyes away, turned her supposed attention back to the screen. She felt as if her face were on fire. She held her head rigid and did not allow herself to follow instinct and turn again to look at him.

His presence was devastating—completely overwhelming. It wasn’t just his scent, it wasn’t just his looks, it was something that consumed her as she stood. She had travelled for hours to be here, to learn about the hospital and nursing roles on the island of Zaraq. She had come here so she could make a wise and informed choice. Yet it might as well have been a cartoon on the screen for all the attention she was paying it. He was well over a metre away and yet it felt as if he were right next to her, touching her almost. The darkness was intimate, and she knew—just knew—he had turned his head to her again and was looking at her. She could hardly breathe, hardly swallow, grateful for the wall that was behind her holding her up.

Not once had she felt like this.

Even her ex-boyfriend Paul’s most tender administration of affection hadn’t elicited even a quarter of this response—their relationship had in fact broken up because of it. Felicity was unable, physically unable, to give that piece of herself—and yet, here in the darkness that piece of her she had searched for, the elusive thing that every other human on earth seemed to possess, had emerged. Like a shoot after the cold soil of winter, she felt a stir of warmth, the split of a seed, a surfacing that here in the darkness felt surreal.

She was going mad.

Staring at the screen, trying to concentrate, trying to slow her breathing, Felicity thought she was, right there and then, going completely insane. For a full year she’d seen a psychologist along with Paul—had also been to a gynaecologist who had broken her hymen and given her a strange set of dilators to gradually get her body used to the idea. But nothing—not endless warm bubble baths, nor Paul taking it slowly, not a tranquiliser or a glass of wine, nor a plea to ‘just please do it’ had worked.

Nothing.

Yet here, standing in the darkness, feeling his eyes on her, smelling him, sensing him, had he walked that short distance over and pressed his face onto hers she would have kissed him. She could almost imagine him pushing into her. Her panties were damp just from standing there near him. How would it be if he were closer?

And then he was gone.

He just slipped quietly away. A chink of light showed from the door as he made his exit, and finally Felicity could breathe again. She stood for a moment and collected herself before the room was flooded in light, and then she slipped into a seat, her mind, her body still whirring.

‘You didn’t miss much!’ A friendly face smiled, and the man introduced himself as Liam Edwards.

‘Just the first fifteen minutes,’ Felicity lied—because thanks to the mystery man she’d practically missed all of the introductory presentation.

‘Lucky you!’ Liam rolled his eyes. ‘It was all about the royal family and King Zaraq and his sons. Still, the hospital looks fantastic. I’m a nurse, by the way. I work in emergency,’ he added, ‘and me and my girlfriend are trying to save for a deposit for a house. This looks like a good way. She’s an emergency nurse too. What about you?’

‘I’m a midwife.’ Felicity’s smile was fixed. She wished she’d chosen another seat, not next to this chatty stranger. She was glad when Noor stepped on stage and introduced the first speaker, Judith Lansdon, a woman in her fifties, who was a professor of medicine and in charge of the medical faculty at the university.

Though the professor’s talk was no doubt fascinating, Felicity had to force herself to concentrate, still reeling from what had just occurred. Then she asked herself what had occurred? She had nothing with which to compare it.

‘Now, a few facts about Zaraq before your various specialities are addressed,’ the host announced. ‘The new all-female university is something we are very proud of on the island. The university has been built beside the hospital in the main city of Zaraqua, which is set near the ocean. Most of Zaraq is inhospitable desert—yet the island has its own economy, its own airport and a thriving tourist industry with stunning seven-star resorts. The compound attached to the university and the hospital where you would be living has every luxury. But be aware that Zaraq holds dear its traditions. Though this is a progressive monarchy, it has its own rules—rules that are outlined in the guidelines you have been given. They are non-negotiable. I strongly suggest that you read them carefully before you consider embarking on this journey. Sheikh King Kaliq Zaraq insists on good healthcare for all his subjects. In fact it is hoped at some time in the future to implement an outreach programme for the Bedouin people, though this is a sensitive area.’

The morning wore on, and gradually the strange encounter faded a touch from her thoughts as Felicity’s well-laid plans started to change. Each speaker had her more and more impressed, and with each hour that passed her decision became harder. She had arranged to go to the Middle East for two years to nurse, and her paperwork had been approved, and she was just a couple of days away from signing her contract. But one day her attention had been caught by an article about the new university in Zaraq, and she had looked it up on the internet. She had seen an amazing state-of-the-art maternity hospital. On a last-minute impulse Felicity had rung the information number. On hearing she was a qualified midwife, they had invited her to attend today, and now Felicity, as they all trooped out for a sumptuous buffet lunch, was torn with indecision. Should she just stay with the hospital she had first chosen, or start the process all over again so that she could nurse in Zaraq?

‘What do you think?’ Liam asked as they stood chatting through lunch. ‘The pay’s better than at the other hospitals…’

‘It looks very impressive. I think it might well be a yes.’ Felicity nodded. ‘I just hope it doesn’t take too long. I’ll have to find out more about the application procedure.’ She didn’t add that her family was desperate for the money this work would bring in. After years of seeing her sister struggle with a severe eating disorder Felicity had taken a vast loan, and Georgie’s problems had finally been properly addressed in a top private clinic. Though Felicity considered the money well spent, the fact was, it was money she didn’t have. Now it was time to pay it back.

She did not share this information with Liam—not that it stopped him from divulging what was on his mind.

‘My girlfriend and I will have to get married if we go.’ He didn’t look too pleased at the idea.

‘That’s not just in Zaraq.’ Felicity frowned. ‘If you want to live together in most parts of the Middle East you have to be married. Have you done any research at all?’

‘This is it!’ Liam shrugged and carried on chatting, but Felicity was lost again. Midway to putting a small, perfectly cut sandwich to her lips, she saw him—across the room, talking to Noor. Worse, he was looking at her, and in the light he was better than beautiful, he was utterly stunning. He had a rakish, haughty face, full, sensual lips—and in four split seconds Felicity achieved more insight into her sister Georgie’s eating disorder than she had in all her research and education.

The most natural thing was to carry on, to chat to Liam, to eat the tiny sliver of bread. But she was so supremely self-conscious, so awkward, so aware of her mouth, her teeth as they bit in, her tongue, her jaw as she chewed, her throat as she swallowed, she gave in, put the loaded plate down, and settled for water instead.

Who the hell was he?

It was a question that would remain unanswered. Through the afternoon lectures, despite her eyes scanning the room for him, despite feeling as if she were on high alert waiting for him to reappear, there was no further sign of him. When the session ended at five p.m. it was with a certain reluctance that she accepted she would never see him again. Her mystery man would remain just that—a mystery.

‘See you.’ Liam grinned, rushing past as she lingered in the foyer. ‘But not in Zaraq!’

Felicity laughed. ‘Not for you then?’

‘Nope. Do you want to grab a coffee?’ he offered, but though she would have loved to linger a little while longer, to catch one final glimpse of him, her train left in twenty minutes. If she missed that one then she’d miss her connection, and she wouldn’t make it back home tonight. Felicity declined, smiling. As she walked through to Reception she could see the grey London streets and the rain threatening. She rummaged in her bag for her small umbrella and heard her phone bleeping.

‘Hi, Mum!’

‘How was it?’

‘Great.’ Felicity smiled. ‘Too good actually. Now I think I want to go to Zaraq.’

‘Well, you’re not going anywhere tonight…’

Felicity groaned as her mother continued.

‘I looked up the trains and there’s been some trouble on the line. No service till tomorrow. There is a bus, apparently, but it only takes you halfway and you have to change.’

‘It will take hours.’ There was no chance of her getting home before midnight at this rate.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Don’t worry.’ Felicity could hear her mother getting anxious, and as always moved quickly to quash it. ‘I’ll be fine; I can stay in London overnight.’

‘But you haven’t booked in anywhere. You don’t know anyone!’

‘Mum, I’m twenty-six,’ Felicity interrupted calmly. ‘I’m more than capable of surviving a night in London.’

Her credit card wasn’t, though!

Still, as Felicity turned off her phone she was suddenly glad of the train cancellation. The thought of a night to herself was rather tempting—it had been way too long since she’d had one. Her time recently had been taken up with visiting her sister in the eating disorder unit, or stopping by at her mum’s for a little pep-talk. Even since Georgie’s discharge she hadn’t been able to relax, with her mother or sister ringing almost constantly. Then there was taking Georgie to out-patients’ appointments, and trying to work overtime as the never-ending medical bills and loan repayments rapidly caught up.

It would be nice to have a night alone.

A night when for once Felicity Anderson could just be that.

Not midwife, not daughter, not sister, not carer, not provider.

Just plain old Felicity would do very nicely.

Karim liked London.

He was an occasional visitor, though recently he had been coming a lot more often. He had been overseeing the recruitment process for his hospital and university, as well as visiting his mother and checking on several investments and businesses he had stakes in. He wasn’t busy enough though for his liking—not in the way he was in Zaraq, or had been. Karim blew out a long breath.

It was hard to get excited about million-dollar deals when they were but a drop in the ocean of his family’s vast wealth. Hard too to inject enthusiasm into the recruitment process. The hospital and the university had been his inception, both ideas had fired him up at the time—but Karim didn’t want to be watching films or looking at brochures of well-equipped hospitals. He wanted to be working in one. He wanted to stretch his brilliant mind with a complicated diagnosis, or to immerse himself fully in a long operation. But thanks to his status those opportunities were getting fewer and further between.

Still, he loved the relative anonymity London gave him. Here, though he worked seemingly hard, there was no real responsibility. Here he was carefree—a playboy prince who regularly indulged. It was so very different from his rigid, high-profile life back home. Here he could walk the streets unrecognised—which his security team hated him doing more than anything. Karim refused to bend. Dressed in a dark suit with a full-length overcoat he actually enjoyed the rain, enjoyed the changing seasons he witnessed when he came here. Late autumn was a season he liked, perhaps the most. This weekend he would drive to the country, get out of the city…

As his phone bleeped he gave it a cursory glance and then rolled his eyes. It was Leila again—he would have his aide, Khan, speak with her and forbid her from pestering him.

Yes, he would drive to the country—and, he decided, he would not go alone…

Karim thought only briefly of the rather difficult conversation he had had with Leila earlier this week, telling his long-term mistress that her services were no longer required. She hadn’t taken it at all well—but then, what woman ever did?

Karim enjoyed and had bedded many women, though he believed absolutely in monogamy. After all, he always ensured the fling, or relationship, or whatever it was called, was confirmed as over before he readily moved on to the next! But not for much longer. He was being pushed further and further towards marriage by his father—something Karim was doing his best to avoid. Leila had delusions of grandeur—had thought that their three-month fling might be leading somewhere—and was refusing to listen now Karim had told her that marriage to her was not and never had been his intention. Over the past two weeks she had become demanding. When Karim didn’t take her calls she would pester his aides—and, most importantly to Karim, the sex hadn’t been that good!

Well, it had been good, Karim corrected—it had just taken too long! He was a marvellous lover—he had no issues there—and he lavished his lovers with attention. He did all the right things, and they certainly wept for more. It was really a time issue. With an appetite as insatiable as Karim’s sometimes there simply wasn’t time, and Leila had been insisting recently on the full theatre, when for Karim sometimes all he needed was her mouth.

Enough, he had decided. It was over and he had dealt with it—to his father’s dismay. His father had told Karim in no uncertain terms that it was time now to find a bride—which was why he’d flown to London. For one last play, one last feast of indulgence, before duty caught up and he married a suitable bride.

When he had slipped into the meeting room and been greeted by that stunning blonde he had felt the attraction—how he had felt it. And at lunchtime he had been sorely tempted to walk over. Still, when Noor had explained she was there to consider working in the maternity section of the hospital, Karim had decided it might be rather messy should he see her at work. He had decided that an afternoon stroll might be safer, so he’d rung Mandy, whose eyes weren’t quite as blue and whose hair wasn’t naturally blonde, and arranged to see her tonight. Even if she wasn’t her, Karim was blessed with a good imagination—if he could stop Mandy talking for half an hour he would have a good night!

He’d headed back to the hotel only once the information session was over—happy with himself until he saw the real thing, walking out of the hotel and looking straight towards him.

Karim smiled and walked towards her. Why should he settle for a poor imitation?

It had been raining, Felicity realised, and it was about to seriously pour again. The sky was heavy and dark, the streets wet and uninviting. And then she saw him, walking towards her, dressed in a long black coat. With his dark hair he should have blended in with the rest, but he stood out, luminous almost in the grey and gloomy day.

And he saw her looking.

The underground was across the street and to the left. There was a moment for Felicity—a mysterious, inexplicable moment—when she knew she could walk down the steps and turn left, could turn her back and that would be it; or she could stand still and see what happened.

It was bizarre, watching as the rain started to fall, as everyone else hastened their speed or paused and put up umbrellas. His stride never changed. He just walked towards her with purpose in his eyes—determination, almost—and with a stab of regret she knew that it was pointless. Even if he engineered a conversation, asked her to join him for coffee or dinner, even if he was as stunning to talk to as he was to look at, all she would do in the long run was disappoint.

Mission pointless, Felicity realised, shaking herself out of her momentary trance, and she went down the steps and turned left.

There was Liam, walking out of a coffee shop over the road with a large muffin in his hand. Everybody was going back to their lives, and so too must she. As she pushed the traffic light button her head was whirring, trying to define what it was she had turned her back on—because not a word between them had been said.

The lights were changing, cars, taxis, cyclists and buses all slowing down and the green light was about to flash to tell the pedestrians to walk. She almost wanted his hand to come on her shoulder, for this mysterious man to haul her back to his world.

There was no hand on her shoulder. It was self-preservation that caused her to step back. In fact Felicity pulled an elderly lady back too, as she saw that one car wasn’t slowing down—if anything it was speeding up. In the small amount of time it took for it happen, Felicity saw everything. The female driver, her head back, jerking at the wheel, the slide of the car over the crossing, and the horrific sound of a revved engine. It was like a missile turning and randomly choosing its course. It could have ended up anywhere—on the crowded pavement, in a packed café window. With no time to move, to register, even to run, an eerie silence descended. And then came a ripping sound of metal that went on for ever, a thud of impact as the small car slammed into a bus, its wheels still scratching and spinning, its engine still revving.

Then people moved.

The chance of an explosion was imminent.

As the crowd scattered, a few people ran forward.

Felicity could see the hotel doorman and Liam, running towards the centre of the bus, pulling on the closed doors. He was running too—but to the crashed car, as was she.

‘She was fitting,’ Felicity called out to him. He was leaning in the car as she sped over, her smart high heels hard work in the rain. She realised she hadn’t been heard above the scream of the engine as she reached him, and shouted again. ‘She was fitting!’

He had reached in and turned off the engine, but still it was dangerous and he told her so. ‘Get back—this could go up at any time.’

It was the first time she had heard his voice. Deep and accented, it was telling her very clearly to leave the scene. Liam was telling her the same, having helped off the passengers after he had dashed to the centre of the bus. Seeing just how dangerous it was, he told Felicity to get the hell out.

‘They’re all off the bus. Driver’s got minor injuries. The fire engine will be here in a moment—it’s unstable…’

It was—smoke was billowing from the car engine. Felicity could hear sirens in the background. Help was never far away on busy London streets—except the streets were packed, and the short distance between help and the accident was blocked with cars.

‘Go!’ He didn’t turn to say it—he was supporting the woman’s head; she was breathing but unconscious—but he made his orders clear. ‘Get back now!’

So she did—albeit reluctantly. Felicity knew it was up to the experts, that if he chose to risk his life then that was his choice. And then she heard it, the shrieks of a newborn baby. Not fearful, stunned shrieks, but like those of a wounded animal, and she could no more walk away now than fly.

Liam was calling her back, telling her not to be foolish, but Felicity ignored him. He, the beautiful stranger, didn’t question her decision as she approached. He was still holding the woman’s head but he was also assessing the car for an opening, trying to locate the piercing screams of the baby. He didn’t order her to leave again—knew perhaps he would be wasting his time—and time was of the essence.

Felicity wrenched at the crumpled car door and tried to get her head in the small gap she created.

‘The baby’s bleeding.’ Though it was wrapped in a blue blanket, the little white baby suit was dark with blood on the arm. Felicity’s head couldn’t fit fully in, but she could see a shard of metal sticking out of the babe’s arm, and even though the blood loss looked relatively small, for such a tiny infant it was substantial.

‘There’s a piece of metal…’

‘Felicity.’ She was surprised that he knew her name, but he said rapidly, ‘I’m Karim. Can you get your arm in? Can you reach?’

She was already trying—only she couldn’t see and stretch inside at the same time.

‘I can’t get in!’

‘No.’ His voice was calm and assured. ‘Turn around and put your arm in that way. You will be able to reach; you will be able to hear me.’

‘But I can’t see.’

‘I will guide you.’ His voice was accented, rich and strong, and so assured, it reassured her. It made Felicity think that she could do it.

She had no choice but to do it.

One last glance at the baby to get her bearings showed her the patch of blood was spreading. She could see the shard of metal in its arm and knew she had to apply pressure.

She turned her head, the rain lashing her face as her arm slid into the dry confines of the car.

‘Lower your hand,’ Karim ordered. ‘That is the base of the crib.’

Crib? The baby seat, Felicity translated to herself. He was holding the patient’s head and ducking his own in and out of the vehicle, so that he could be her eyes on the inside and speak to her on the outside. Inch by inch her fingers crept forward.

‘Now to your right. Feel his foot? That is his right foot. Move up.’

The injured arm was the baby’s left one, and Felicity slowly moved her hand upwards with Karim’s guidance. The baby had stopped screaming now, and was just making little noises—which was even more worrying than the crying. Without Karim’s instruction her fingers located the sternum, the neck, and tried to move to the left.

‘I can’t reach,’ Felicity said. ‘I can’t.’

‘Two inches,’ Karim said, and she was grateful then for her high heels—and for Karim urging her on. ‘Careful,’ Karim warned, but because she had seen, she knew where the metal was. She slipped her fingers into the babe’s axilla and pushed upwards.

‘Is it stopping?’

‘I don’t know,’ Karim admitted. ‘Just keep pushing.’

So she did.

For what felt like for ever.

The emergency services had arrived and the passenger door was peeled back a touch further. She could get her head inside now. She couldn’t move to cover the baby with a blanket as the firefighter punched in the rear window—Karim did that. A paramedic had put a collar on the mother, and she had been extracted, but instead of stepping back, Karim climbed in further, covered the baby with an ambulance blanket, and covered Felicity’s head too.

‘She needs a hard hat,’ a fire officer called.

‘There’s no room for a hard hat,’ Karim responded. ‘Turn your head,’ Karim said to Felicity, which she did. Screwing her eyes closed, she tried not to move as the emergency crew created rear access to the baby.

And Karim stayed with her in the strange little tent.

He talked her through it, as her hand was numb and she wasn’t sure if the baby was alive or dead.

‘The firefighters have doused the engines,’ he assured her. ‘It shouldn’t be much longer now.’

‘My legs are freezing,’ Felicity admitted.

‘It will be over soon.’ He held her eyes, black on blue, and it helped. She could hear the chatter of the firefighters and the paramedics behind her, but it was Karim’s voice she was listening to. ‘They are giving oxygen to him now.’ It was as if he was her translator, and she could only listen to him, only trust what he was telling her, because he had been her eyes. ‘They want to put IV access into his scalp before they move him. Can you hold on a little while more?’

Her whole arm and shoulder weren’t only numb now, they hurt. Her body was trying not to shake, though she was frozen. She thought of all her mums in the last throes of labour, when it was all too much, when it was impossible, and yet still, with encouragement, somehow they pushed on.

‘You can hold on,’ Karim said, and she listened to him instead of to her body, that wanted to stop. She told herself it wasn’t for much longer and pushed on.

‘Got him.’ A hand was over hers, pushing where she had, and a nameless voice told her she could let go now.

‘Move her slowly backwards,’ Karim ordered whoever was supporting her—because now she could let go Felicity was unsteady. She had to be pulled back rather than just remove herself from the car. Then she stood massaging her arm, tears pricking at her eyes as Karim climbed out too.

‘Well done,’ he said, and then changed his mind. ‘I told you to get back. You should think before you rush in.’

‘Did you?’ Felicity commented.

‘You should be more careful—there could have been more victims.’

What made the rules different for him? Felicity thought, and then winced as blood rushed back to her numb arm. She stared down at her soaked, filthy clothes. Her hair and face were drenched, and suddenly she didn’t need scolding. She was close to crying, and he must have seen that because he changed tack.

‘Go into the hotel,’ Karim instructed. ‘I will come and speak with you there.’

‘I’m fine…’ Felicity attempted, but gave in because clearly she wasn’t—not that Karim was listening. His attention was back on the accident scene.

Felicity looked on. The world was coming back into focus now, as her circulation returned. The street was awash with fire trucks and paramedics. The little babe was being lifted out in his intact child seat, loads of hands gently guiding the little life to safety. It was like watching a baby being born—a long, silent pause, then relief from the crowd, from everyone, as he was safely delivered from the confines of the car. A blanket had been put around her shivering shoulders and Felicity just stood and took it all in. But not Karim. Even though there were doctors and paramedics, all waiting to assist, he didn’t relinquish control. He snapped out orders as Felicity continued to stand and watch.

Just who was this man?

Only when the ambulance doors closed—when the siren blasted and the police directed it away—only then, when there was nothing more either could do, did he come over to Felicity and without a word guide her inside the hotel.

Just as she had known he would.




CHAPTER TWO


‘WELL, I don’t think we need to check your references!’

They were sitting in the sumptuous hotel lounge; Felicity had relinquished her blanket and was shivering as Karim rapidly ordered drinks. Piping hot chocolate appeared in a moment. Soaking wet and shivering, and completely out of place in such surroundings, she must have looked a sight—but because Karim didn’t turn a hair, neither did she. For now.

He gave her a kind smile and it dawned on Felicity where she was—not her surroundings, more the company. She was sitting with the man who had captured her attention for the entire day—the man she had chosen at the last moment to avoid. Now here she was, sitting drinking hot chocolate, the sole focus of his attention.

And she had every right to be nervous!

Now that everyone had stopped looking at her, she was able to look at him—and he really was the most heart-stop-pingly beautiful man she had ever seen. His coat had been removed by a waiter, and his gorgeous charcoal suit—apart from damp cuffs—was completely unscathed. His short black hair was glossy and wet, and his tie and the top of his shirt were loosened. He might have stepped out of a board meeting. The superbly cut suit accentuated his long limbs, and his olive complexion was set off with a crisp white shirt and gunmetal tie. His eyes were black, and they were kind, but they were not friendly. There was an elusive quality to him that Felicity couldn’t quite put her finger on. An air of superiority that had Felicity fast realising that she hadn’t a hope of relaxing and enjoying his company!

‘Allow me to introduce myself—I am Karim. I oversee recruitment for the university and the hospital.’

Which was a rather vague introduction. Felicity frowned.

‘You’re a doctor?’ she checked. He had known what he was doing out there, had retained control even when the emergency services had arrived. He was more than a recruitment consultant—of that she was sure.

‘A surgeon.’ Karim nodded. ‘Though I rarely practise now. Recruitment is my focus.’ He changed the subject. ‘And you are Felicity Anderson, a fully qualified midwife who has all her paperwork up to date and is ready to leave.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I checked who you were with Noor.’

‘Oh!’ She blamed it on the hot chocolate, but she felt pink returning to her pale cheeks.

‘I asked her to point out any midwives or emergency nurses. We are very short of both.’

‘I see.’ Felicity nodded. So that was why he had been looking. She only had her imagination to blame for thinking otherwise. Curiously deflated, she sat there, exhausted now, as the adrenaline that had seen her through the accident fully wore off.

‘You did very well out there.’ Karim looked her over approvingly, but sadly, Felicity realised, he was assessing only her nursing skills. ‘Without you the baby would have exsanguinated.’

‘I just hope I did enough soon enough.’

‘I will ring and find out later,’ Karim said, looking forward to the prospect—perhaps they could do that from his room! ‘So, do you live in London?’

‘Unfortunately, no!’

‘Unfortunately?’ Karim checked.

‘I live in the north, and my train just got cancelled.’ She was drained at the prospect of finding somewhere to stay, but Karim clearly thought he had the answer.

‘Stay here tonight, then.’

‘I don’t think so!’ She gave a small laugh; certainly she’d love to stay here—would love to peel off her damp, muddied clothes and climb into a fluffy white bathrobe rather than trudge the streets searching for accommodation that was rather more basic. But it was impossible, that was all! At that moment her phone rang. Not wanting to be rude, Felicity ignored it, and Karim gave a slight frown.

‘It’s my mum!’ she said, by way of explanation.

‘Shouldn’t you speak with her?’

‘I did a little while ago,’ Felicity said, and then relented a touch. ‘She suffers with anxiety. It’s easier if I ring her when I’ve found out where I’m staying.’

‘You just have,’ Karim said. ‘You will stay as our guest.’

‘Our guest?’

‘Zaraqua’s guest!’ He spoke as if the city was a person. ‘We invited you to attend today’s information session; now you have missed your train and you have also saved a baby’s life. Of course it is our responsibility to ensure you get safely home. If that means you stay in London tonight, then so be it…’

‘I couldn’t possibly.’ Felicity shook her head.

‘This is how it will be.’ Karim stood up. ‘Excuse me for one moment.’

Felicity watched his broad back as he strode through the lounge. He really did have the most amazing presence. Every head turned as he walked past. She sat quietly, determinedly ignoring her phone, which was ringing again. She wished her mother would wait a little. Felicity would ring her, she resolved again, when she knew what was happening herself.

‘Here.’ Felicity jumped slightly and put down the scone she was eating as Karim returned and handed her a neat navy folder. ‘It has all been arranged.’

It had too! She opened the folder, saw her room number and a swipe card, and could scarcely believe it. She was also just a little nervous as to what she was being offered. ‘Are you sure?’ Felicity frowned, completely unused to being spoilt, to things being sorted for her—normally that was her role. Still, the incident had shaken her up enough that she didn’t have it in her to protest too much! ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘Absolutely.’ Karim nodded. ‘You cannot go home in wet clothes. Use the laundry service, and you have full use of the facilities—perhaps visit the spa…After today, you deserve to relax, And,’ he added, ‘may I say again well done. They are both very lucky that you were there.’

She deserved this, Karim thought. This woman who had just saved a life should not be stranded in London. She deserved to be spoiled, pampered. He insisted to himself he would have done the same for any attendee, but as he had arranged her accommodation he had shamelessly upgraded her—several notches, in fact. A rather confusing thought had occurred to him. Karim remembered the moment before the accident—the moment this woman had turned her back on him.

‘Well, thank you,’ Felicity said, retrieving her bag from the floor. ‘It will be nice to get out of these clothes…’ She stopped abruptly, a little embarrassed at her choice of words. ‘Thank you again.’

She was going, Karim realised with a frown. Her words had been unintentional. There was no hint of flirting, no lingering to see if he might ask her to join him later…

‘Would you like another drink?’ Karim asked, but she shook her head.

‘No, thanks.’

‘Perhaps later?’ When again she shook her head, Karim couldn’t be bothered to pursue it. He was here in London for fun, and this was starting to feel like hard work.

As Felicity stood to go the waiter came over.

‘Will you and your guest be dining with us tonight, Your…?’

He was frowned into silence. Karim had given strict instruction that his title was not to be used within the hotel—his security team were miserable enough with his jogging and walking the London streets, without alerting the public that there was a sheikh royal prince in their midst.

‘Sir!’ The waiter changed his words with a cough.

Karim was about to decline. He thought of Mandy, ever ready and waiting, and then looked to where Felicity stood. Her face was blushing scarlet, her eyes so startled he half expected her to turn and run. Maybe he should just let her. But he remembered again the attraction that had flared in the presentation room, that unacknowledged arousal between them that had rendered him so hard he had had to get out. He decided the effort might be worth it—he wanted to go there again.

‘Would you like to join me?’

He saw the dart of her eyes, and—always smooth, always polite—said the right thing. ‘Forgive me—that was crass. Of course you do not have to join me. There is no obligation.’

‘I know…’ Felicity managed a small laugh as he voiced her urgent thoughts and then checked herself. Her accommodation was sorted, and now the most impossibly attractive man was asking her for dinner…So what if it couldn’t lead to anything? So what if there was no point in pursuing a romance with this man? She hadn’t had a night out or off in months.

Staring into his black eyes, at that moment the answer was easy. ‘I’d love to join you, except…’ She gestured to her crumpled and soaked linen suit.

‘The hotel will sort that…’ He waved his hand as if it were that easy. ‘And I can give you an update on the mother and baby over dinner.’

‘Thank you.’ Felicity nodded.

‘We will meet at eight,’ Karim said. ‘Here?’

‘That would be lovely.’

It would be lovely, Felicity thought as Karim stalked out of the hotel lounge. But, glancing at her watch, she realised she had only just over an hour to prepare! So, after ringing her mother to tell her a rather loose version of her plans, Felicity snapped into urgent mode and dashed to a chemist. She bought some stockings, a toothbrush and paste, and some hair serum, and then went up to her room.

Only it wasn’t a room—it was a suite. A vast sprawling suite, with flowers and chocolates and even a bucket of champagne cooling in a silver bucket.

And then someone knocked at the door.

Her heart stilled. She was nervous that it was Karim, that she had misinterpreted the exceptionally friendly gesture after all.

But it was a woman with an instant wardrobe on a trolley, that she wheeled into Felicity’s room. Felicity just stood there as she was informed to help herself, and told that her own clothes would be laundered and back to her by morning.

She couldn’t get her head around it. She was used—too used—to being two steps ahead of everything, to being the one who anticipated problems, the one who sorted things out. Yet since she had stepped into the hotel—since her first greeting from Noor—she had been looked after, her needs anticipated, and she had been rewarded for a job well done too.

It felt nice.

Unfamiliar, but very, very nice.

Peeling off her damp clothes, Felicity took in her suite.

It had everything—and she hadn’t needed to worry about the toothpaste and brush. The little basket of goodies in the bathroom contained everything a girl might need, Felicity thought as she found a teeny pump bottle of hair serum. And even things a girl didn’t need too…

Like condoms!

Oh, Karim had assured her there were no obligations, but that wasn’t why she dropped them like a hot coal. Whatever Karim might be expecting from her, it was never going to happen.

Felicity sat, deflated, on the edge of the huge oval bath and stared at herself in the mirror.

Her blonde hair was tumbled, there was still a flush of excitement in her cheeks, and her blue eyes were glittering at the prospect of dinner with Karim. But, as Paul had found out, dinner was all it would ever be. What if tonight went well? Felicity worried. What if he asked to see her again? And what if they went out for a few weeks…? She screwed her eyes closed at the prospect. At what point did you tell someone? She knew it was impossible for them to have a relationship, knew it was pointless to pursue it, but she did want dinner with him…

And dinner was all it could ever be for her—even with a man as dashing as Karim.




CHAPTER THREE


HE WAS waiting for her.

Karim stood as she walked into the hotel lounge, and his decision as to his choice of date for the night was instantly confirmed as the right one.

She was wearing a pale grey woollen dress, a modest dress—yet it clung nicely to her trim waist, and Karim noticed the scooped neckline. It accentuated her full bust…

He had idly wondered what she would achieve in an hour. Used to summoning mistresses, he had women on tap and permanently ready. This one was not used to his ways, and yet she had done exceptionally well! No one would possibly guess that just a short while ago she had been saving a life in the driving rain.

Her hair, that had been tied back in all of the short time he had known her, was loose now. Soft and newly washed, it fell over her shoulders. Her long, slim legs were encased in stockings, her feet in dark grey stilettos.

Yes, he was glad of his choice of company for the night. But as he placed his hand on her elbow and guided her through the restaurant, and she shot forward at the slight contact, he knew it was going to be a long one! Unashamedly he had checked her CV. He knew that she was twenty-six and single, yet she was acting like a gauche teenager on her first date.

Oh, well, Karim decided glancing at his watch. If they weren’t in bed by eleven he could be at Mandy’s by twelve!

He’d give her three hours!

The menu was impossible. Oh, there was plenty that at first glance she liked, but sitting opposite Karim made the simplest decision impossible. He was wearing a different suit, had used his hour to shower and change too. Felicity could see that—and smell it. She was somewhat relieved and a little irritated too when his phone rang. He answered it, and after a brief apology spoke to whoever was on the line in rapid Arabic.

‘I am sorry about that.’ He put his phone down, and then picked it up again and turned it off. ‘That was an old friend and colleague of mine. He is working at the hospital the casualties were taken to—he always speaks in our own language.’

‘How are they?’ Felicity asked, glad now that he had taken the call, but worried as to what she might hear.

‘The mother has regained consciousness. She had another seizure on arrival, but she is doing well.’

‘And the baby?’

‘Is in Theatre now,’ Karim said. ‘It will take a while, but the surgeons are very hopeful.’

‘Did he regain consciousness?’

‘Yes!’ Karim nodded. ‘They resuscitated with fluids. There is one problem…’ He paused for just a moment and Felicity held her breath. ‘He’s a she!’

‘Oh!’ Felicity blinked, remembering the blue blanket. ‘Well, there’s a reminder never to assume!’ She smiled, and he did too. He had lovely white even teeth, with just a tiny irregularity. But even that made him more exquisite; this was no capped, manufactured smile, and he really was, as she had first realised, devastating.

With only brief consultation he took care of the wine and the ordering, and was such pleasant company that by the time she had struggled through the entrée and moved onto the main Felicity was almost able to relax.

But not fully—because always, always her mind was on the end of night, or the next night, or the next.

This was a date.

A real one.

And real ones—good ones—led to more dates…

‘You may find things different in Zaraqua,’ Karim warned her, after he had pressed her about her work and she had told him how she was a strong advocate for natural childbirth with minimum intervention. ‘We have top-class facilities and equipment, and we do tend to use them.’

‘I have thought about that,’ Felicity said, ‘and I’m not looking to change the world. I work in a low-risk birthing centre at the moment—hopefully I’ll come away from Zaraq more informed, which can only be good.’

‘You have an open mind.’ Karim smiled. ‘You would not make a good surgeon.’

‘I’m a good midwife, though,’ Felicity said, and smiled back.

‘Did you tell your mother you were staying here?’

‘No!’ Felicity said. ‘I just told her I had found somewhere.’ She saw his slight frown. ‘She’d only worry more if I told her about the crash.’

‘It must be hard, having a parent who worries so.’

‘It is,’ Felicity admitted, and thanked the waiter as her main course was taken away. ‘And I’m still not sure if I’m doing the right thing, going overseas. My sister hasn’t been well for a couple of years,’ she explained. ‘She’s doing fine now, but there have been a lot of expenses. This way I can really tackle them. Only…’ She hesitated. The practical solution she had come up with for her family had been a sensible one, but there was an emotional side to it too—one she had never shared and certainly not with a stranger.

‘Only…?’ Karim checked.

‘I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing—I’m not sure how they’ll manage. Georgie, my sister, has an eating disorder. She’s doing brilliantly now, though.’ She swallowed uncomfortably, nervous of voicing her innermost fears. ‘I’m just worried that my leaving will set her back. But I don’t really have a choice.’

‘Georgie has,’ Karim said as a white chocolate mousse drizzled in hot raspberry sauce was placed in front of her. ‘She can choose to stay well or not—you cannot do that for her.’

He was right—of course he was right—only it wasn’t so straightforward.

‘You don’t understand…’

‘I can assure you I do!’ Karim responded. ‘I know all there is to know about duty and family. And I know how it feels to be the strong one.’

Karim had declined dessert, and was working his way through a cheese platter. Now her dessert bowl was empty, it merited just a little look from her. He pushed the platter forward and, to her own surprise, instead of refusing and saying she was fine, Felicity took a cracker and helped herself.

‘What about your father?’ Karim asked, watching as the cracker paused midway to her mouth.

‘He died a few years ago.’

‘I’m sorry. That must have been hard for you all.’

She stared across the table at him, stared into black, assessing eyes that gave absolutely nothing away—eyes that judged but were somehow not judging. Instead of taking the easy option and accepting his condolences, after a brief hesitation she responded.

‘Don’t be sorry. He caused this mess. What about your family?’

He gave a brief shrug. ‘There is not much to tell.’

‘Oh?’

He stabbed a piece of cheese with his knife and smeared it on some bread, then took a sliver of quince jelly and topped it with that. He handed it to her and then did the same for himself.

Karim never usually shared—he was generous with gifts, he just never shared what was his.

But tonight he did.

‘I have two brothers. My mother lives here in London—my father is in Zaraq.’

‘Are they divorced?’ For a second she was sure his face tightened, and she thought she must have said the wrong thing. It was an entirely natural assumption—just the wrong one.

‘There is no divorce in Zaraq. My mother, even though she lives in England, gave my father four sons. She deserves his support and respect.’

This was a rather different way of looking at things than Felicity was used to hearing in the maternity wards! But he’d confused her now.

‘Four?’ She crinkled her nose. ‘I thought you said that you had two brothers?’

‘I do.’

She knew then she had definitely said the wrong thing, and immediately apologised. ‘I’m sorry…’

‘You weren’t to know.’ He didn’t elaborate straight away, and neither did Felicity push, but after the longest pause it was Karim who broke the silence. ‘I am the third son. Ahmed was the second. Zaraq is seventy percent desert. Ahmed was into desert racing. He was practising. His vehicle broke down and help did not get there in time.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She said it again and he held her gaze, even opened his mouth for a second to speak, then changed his mind.

Don’t be. He’d been about to repeat her very words. He caused this mess.

There was no bill to summon—just separate rooms to go to.

It was the part of the night she always dreaded.

They walked slowly to the lifts, where a few people were waiting, and Felicity’s heart was hammering in her chest as he stood and faced her.

‘Thank you,’ she attempted, ‘for a wonderful night.’

Karim was about to say that it didn’t have to end there, but he hesitated. She was jangling with nerves, so he decided to soothe her with his mouth; he would play with her hair, his skilled lips moving in…He would let this lift go, Karim decided as the doors pinged open. His lips would meet hers and then he’d take her to his room in the next one!

His mouth was moving in. She was his sweet dessert to linger over—he had waited twelve hours, and he was more than ready to be rewarded for his good behaviour now.

For Felicity, there was just a sliver of indecision. She felt the weight of his lips, the bliss of his mouth on hers, then relaxed and gave in. They were alone at the lifts now, his hands loosely on her hips as his mouth worked on. Fear was replaced by pleasure, and a tiny curl was unfurling in her stomach. An empty lift opened, and she pulled back her head and stared into his eyes—because if he asked to see her again, even though she lived miles from London, even though it would be difficult, maybe she would say yes…

His mouth was on hers again, pulling her closer in, and it felt sublime to kiss him back without thinking. It was tender, but with intent, his tongue sliding between her lips, the thick scent of arousal suddenly closing in as if suffocating her. She jerked away again, because even if it wasn’t tonight with Karim it would be soon. The inevitable day would come where she’d have to tell him she was frigid. She simply couldn’t face it.

She saw the whip of confusion in his eyes as she fled to the lift and he called her name.

‘Just leave me,’ she sobbed, tears blurring her vision as she tried to make out the floor numbers. She ended up pressing more than half the buttons, so that the lift stopped and started almost at every floor. She wasn’t scared that he’d chase her, just mortified by her own fear, choking down sobs as she swiped her card and stumbled into her room.

It was hopeless!

Soon her stunning grey dress lay in a puddle on the floor. Sheathed in lacy underwear, she lay under the sheets, curled into a shameful ball. She was ashamed of her own behaviour, knew she’d made a fool of herself and embarrassed him—he’d been kissing her goodnight, that was all.

It scared her how much she’d enjoyed it.

But she’d been stupid to try, Felicity was fast realising. Stupid to try and pretend that she was normal.

And very foolish to pretend with a man like Karim.




CHAPTER FOUR


STEPPING out onto the freezing grey street and heading for the underground, Felicity just wanted to get home.

Her clothes, as promised, had been laundered and delivered, and looked better than when she had put them on this time yesterday morning. She had set her alarm for six, determined to get out early and not to have to suffer the embarrassment of seeing him at breakfast.

She’d overreacted appallingly—she knew that.

A simple goodnight would have sufficed.

But it wasn’t his kiss that had terrified her, it was the thought of where it might lead—where, with a man like Karim, it would lead. She couldn’t stand the shame of a disappointing end. Better to just walk away now. Karim oozed sexuality—and she could hardly beat him down with a stick, hardly keep chatting her way through dinner only to dodge his caress at the end of the night.





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