by Ann Mcintosh
The memory of taking down her hair and clipping the pins to her swimsuit tried to insinuate itself into his head, and Farhan had to make a concerted effort to push it away.
“Sara, seatbelt,” he said, earning himself a mischievous glance from beneath her long, dark lashes.
“Yes, Dad,” she muttered, even as she reached for the strap.
And somehow the frown he tried to send her for her teasing turned into a grin.
* * *
Sara appreciated the seatbelt when Okello took a corner on what she was sure was two wheels. She had no idea where they were going, but it didn’t matter. What was important was that they get to the trapped worker as quickly as possible. Know that made the sticky feeling of her scrubs rubbing on salty skin bearable.
She’d debated whether to bring scrubs on their trip. After all, she wasn’t just Dr. Greer anymore but Crown Princess, and people expected her to dress the part. However, since she’d be talking to women in clinics, it seemed less threatening to present herself the way they expected a doctor to dress, rather than all dolled up.
Now she was glad she’d decided to bring a few pairs, since it definitely sounded as though they were in for a dirty job.
The land they were driving through seemed untouched, large trees close together, covered in vines, with thick undergrowth. Wondering whether they were still on Villa Frangipani land, Sara stuck the last of the pins into her hair, hoping they would hold it up. Mara had a way of taming Sara’s hair that Sara herself envied. She’d fought her hair all her life, only growing it out after she’d found a West Indian hairdresser in Toronto who’d helped her learn how to control it. But that was Canada, and this was Kalyana, where the humidity, no matter how light, made every strand want to do its own thing.
And now she knew seawater wasn’t her friend either.
Thank goodness Farhan had stuck her hairpins onto the front of her suit, where she was able to grab them when she needed them.
Remembering him doing it, his face focused and intent, his fingers brushing her skin, made her heat through and through all over again.
Everything he’d said played in her mind.
He liked and was attracted to her.
Wanted her.
But wasn’t in love with her.
The latter was fine. Like him, she’d never been in love, but she was pretty sure what she was feeling was lust, nothing more. He was gorgeous and a nice man, not the arrogant ass she’d thought him to be at first. Was that enough to make her sleep with him? It certainly was tempting. A chance like this might never come again.
They got to the top of a hill, went around another bend and there, in a little valley, was what she assumed to be their destination. The compound was encircled by a stone wall with a wooden gate, there were about six or so buildings and, in an area encircled with chain-link fencing...
“Dogs!”
She leaned forward to get a better look, noting the solid buildings, all clean and brightly painted.
“It’s an animal sanctuary,” Okello explained, as he pressed the accelerator hard, pushing the vehicle to go as fast as possible down the hill.
There was no time to ask any more questions as they roared through the gate to follow the drive around the buildings to the far corner of the compound, where a group of people had gathered.
Jumping out of the now stopped SUV, Sara reached in to grab her medical bag and ran after Farhan and Okello, who had a head start on her.
The crowd parted, and Sara’s stomach dropped when she saw the pile of stones men were frantically pulling away from the still body barely visible beneath them.
Farhan got to the man’s head first, with Sara right behind him.
To her shock, when she knelt down beside him, she saw the man’s eyes were open, aware, although shadowed with pain. Farhan was already doing his assessment, so Sara decided to be his back-up, listening and taking note of all the man said in response to questions. Opening her bag, she took out and put on a pair of gloves, and then, using antiseptic solution and soft gauze, started cleaning up the young man’s face. From her visual inspection, she suspected his nose was broken, and there was a gash above his right eye, which she wanted to check the severity of. While there was a flap of skin hanging down over his eyebrow, and copious bleeding, as was usual with head wounds, her opinion was that it was minor, although there could be concussion.
Farhan was examining the young man, who said his name was Nolan, asking him how the accident had happened while gently inspecting his head and neck. His pupils looked normal, his color surprisingly good for someone stuck under a pile of rocks. Sara looked to see the progress of the other men, still heaving stones away, and was glad to see Nolan’s chest was almost free.
“I was below the wall, sir, marking where it needed to be repaired, when I heard the stones creaking. I tried to run, but tripped and fell.”
“There’s a drainage ditch just about here, isn’t there? Did you fall into that?”
“I’m not sure, sir.”
At least he was lucid and, although having to breathe through his mouth because of his broken nose, didn’t seem to be in major distress.
Farhan looked up at her. “Do you have a neck brace in your kit?”
“No,” she replied.
“Then unless it’s absolutely necessary to move him, I think we should leave him here until the ambulance arrives.”
Sara nodded and as the last of the stones over Nolan’s chest and abdomen were removed, she shifted so Farhan could take his examination lower.
It was almost miraculous. Nolan professed to feel no pain in his back, chest, or abdomen, but as they pulled the last of the stones away, Sara’s heart sank. His leg was twisted under him at an abnormal angle, obviously either broken or badly dislocated at the knee.
The sound of a siren in the distance was a huge relief. There really wasn’t much either Farhan or she could do under the circumstances, and without the right equipment.
She made a mental note to get a larger medical bag and stock it with a neck brace for any future emergencies. Not that she was hoping for any more excitement like this. The whole situation made her painfully aware of how sheltered her medical experience really had been to that point. Working in the field, without the amenities she was used to having at her fingertips, was nerve-racking.
Farhan turned to a woman standing on the sidelines, her arms wrapped around her waist, a worried expression on her weathered face.
“Is there an orthopedic surgeon at the hospital? His leg is going to need surgery.”
“Yes. Dr. Ronan. I hear he’s good.”
The ambulance arrived, and Farhan brought the supervisor up to speed on all he’d seen. Then he fitted Nolan’s neck and back braces himself, and made sure no one tried to straighten the young man’s leg.
“It’s definitely dislocated, and it needs to be dealt with at the hospital.”
“Yes, sir.”
Poor Nolan tried to be brave, but the pain from his leg had him groaning and swearing as they transferred him to a gurney.
Stripping off her gloves, Sara watched the ambulance pull away. Farhan was standing with the woman he’d asked about the surgeon, deep in conversation, and she didn’t want to interrupt. Then they walked over to her, and the woman held out her hand.
“Your Highness, I’m Trinka Daniels, and I’m in charge of this crazy place. Thank you for coming to help Nolan.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Trinka,” she said politely, taking the outstretched hand and getting a firm handshake.
“Well, since you’re here, Farhan, do you want to nose around and see what we’ve been up to since you last visited? It’s been a while, and although I keep you updated, it’s different when you can see it all for yourself. Take the Princess with you, while I supervise feeding time.”
They ended up spending mo
st of the rest of the afternoon at the sanctuary, which Sara learned Farhan had set up himself.
Something else she hadn’t known about him; another facet in his complex personality.
She couldn’t resist wading into the pack of dogs in the field, greeting all those that wanted attention, trying to coax a few of the shyer ones to come to her. Farhan had retreated into a businesslike demeanor, speaking mostly to Trinka and Okello, all but ignoring Sara. Yet, although he didn’t speak to her directly more than two or three times, there were a great deal more times that she looked at him and found his gaze focused entirely on her.
And she couldn’t help noticing how gentle and involved he was with the dogs who came to him, wanting affection.
“I’m glad to see the adoption numbers have been going up,” he remarked to Trinka, who nodded.
“We’ve made quite a bit of headway in that regard, especially when it comes to the puppies. But I want to increase the number of older dogs we rehome, and get more people to foster dogs, to give them a bit of basic training, increase their socialization and chance of finding a forever home. A few of us have been talking about setting up a support animal training program too, but that’s later on. None of us have the time or expertise right now.”
Sara looked up from where she was sitting cross-legged on a low wooden platform, three dogs draped over her lap, all wanting rubs at the same time.
“I know someone in Ottawa who’s involved in the training of medical and emotional support animals. Whenever you’re ready, let me know and I’ll put you in touch with him.”
“Him?” Farhan asked. His tone was mild, but the question made her want to blush for some reason.
“Yes. It’s my Uncle Stanton, my dad’s brother. Most of that side of the family is involved with animals in some way.”
Thankfully, the conversation shifted to other topics, and Sara could concentrate on the little dog who’d won pride of place on her lap. Of indeterminate breed, he was a shaggy little fellow with big brown eyes peering from behind a floppy fringe.
“That’s Coco, short for Coconut, and he normally doesn’t go to people,” Trinka remarked. “You obviously have the touch.”
Stroking his wiry fur, Sara wished she had the wherewithal to take Coco when she left, but didn’t say anything. Maybe before she went back to Canada, she’d come back and liberate him. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to be quarantined back home. She’d look into it when it got closer to the time for her to leave.
Suppressing a sigh, she cuddled the dog a little closer, looking around at the verdant hills, tuning out the human conversation to focus on the birds, the whisper of breeze through the foliage. Canada seemed so very far away despite the constant contact with her family. It was a different life, and one that she didn’t miss as much as she’d thought she would. Kalyana had a completely different rhythm, the country’s heart beating at a slower rate, the people moving at a pace most Canadians would find unbearably leisurely.
Sara, however, was growing to love it all. Sitting here under a sky so blue it could make you cry, the sun warm on her head, there was nowhere she would rather be, and the thought of leaving it behind one day made her unbearably sad.
Coco sat up abruptly, whined under his breath, then reached up to lick her chin.
“Are you okay?”
She didn’t notice Farhan moving until he stooped down next to where she was sitting. The expression on his face was one she didn’t remember ever seeing before. Was that concern tightening the skin around his eyes?
“Of course. Why?”
He shook his head. “You just looked...a little off.”
She smiled at him, wanting so badly to smooth away the wrinkles between his brows, curling her fingers into Coco’s fur to stop herself doing it.
“I’m fine. Really.”
But leaving the little dog behind all but broke her heart, and on the way back to Villa Frangipani, she stared out the side window of the SUV, wondering when her life had gone from simple to so darned complicated.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SHE WAS STILL pondering that question while she showered and changed once they got back.
It was, of course, all about Farhan. He’d turned her life upside down, and not just because of his proposition. No, it was him. Him and the life he’d shown her here in Kalyana, a place that called to her heart just as he did.
The thought brought her up short, made a shiver run down her spine.
She couldn’t fall for him. She just wouldn’t.
Putting aside all his wonderful attributes, his stated attraction to her and the pleasure it gave her to know he wanted her, that would be the stupidest thing she’d ever done in her life. The year would fly by. And, when it was over, if she allowed herself to care for him in any way more than as a friend, the heartbreak would be immense.
She still wasn’t sure she could sleep with him and not get emotionally involved. Even Farhan’s warnings didn’t quell the intensity of her desire.
He’d told her the choice was hers, and he’d go along with whatever she decided.
She’d just have to make sure she didn’t make the wrong choice.
No matter how hard that ultimately might be.
But Sara almost had to eat her own words when she stepped out onto the verandah and saw Farhan standing in the final glow of the setting sun. He was wearing a plain white kurta over pants of the same fabric, the soft linen doing nothing to conceal his wonderful physique. His hair was damp, and from where she stood, frozen, behind him, she could see his strong, wide-palmed hands gripping the balustrade.
Memories of those hands holding and caressing her crashed through her system, trailing fire in their wake. Her determination not to give in to her own lust had been made in the vacuum of solitude, somehow not taking into consideration the bone-deep effect that being in his presence had on her.
He turned then, as though sensing her standing there, and the look he gave her almost melted her on the spot.
It wasn’t the sultry air making it impossible to breathe. It was the darkness of his gaze, the slight softening of his stern lips, the sensation of being pulled toward each other, although neither of them moved.
“Dinner is ready, Uncle Farhan.”
Misha’s voice from farther down the verandah broke the silent, heat-saturated moment between them, allowing Sara to take a breath into her oxygen-starved lungs.
“Come, beautiful.” He gestured for her to precede him to the table set on the verandah, decorated with frangipani blossoms and candles sending flickering light over the crisp white cloth.
She couldn’t reply, her voice still lost in the timeless, thrilling instant just gone.
He pulled out her chair, as he always did, and Sara braced herself for the proximity when slipping by him. But even so his subtle, delicious scent still went straight to her head.
The man was a walking intoxicant.
“I’m glad we had time to visit the animal shelter,” Farhan said, during dinner. “There’s another main one in the south, not as big as this one but with a wider variety of animals. Some horses, donkeys, goats, as well as dogs and cats. If we have time, we’ll go.”
It was the first time he’d mentioned the sanctuaries, and Sara now felt comfortable asking, “Trinka mentioned you’d set them up yourself, when you were in your teens. How did it all happen?”
He lifted one shoulder; a self-effacing gesture she’d come to recognize.
“I never got used to seeing all the stray dogs wandering the street. I used to bring some of them home to the palace, but my parents weren’t too happy about that.”
Sara chuckled, picturing the King and Queen realizing the palace was being overrun with strays.
“One day I picked up a stray, intending to take it home, but I found out it wasn’t a stray at all. It actually belonged to someone who loved it very mu
ch but didn’t have the wherewithal to properly care for it. The dog hadn’t been neutered, so it was constantly in fights. It was riddled with worms, and showed signs of mange.”
He wasn’t looking at her as he spoke, but out into the moonlit gardens.
“I started paying for people to spay and neuter their animals, and told my father the government should do something about all the strays. He told me people come first, and if I wanted something done about it, then it was up to me. So I did, using some of my inheritance from my grandfather. But it’s really the people running the sanctuaries and shelters who are doing all the work.”
He said it so matter-of-factly, as though it were no big deal. His humbleness moved her in a soul-deep way.
“But you don’t have any animals of your own?”
A fond smile, tinged with sadness, tipped the edges of his lips.
“I had two dogs in Australia, but they both died a couple of years ago. I haven’t had the heart to get any more since. When I need a dog fix, I go and volunteer at the shelter in Huban.”
“I love dogs too,” she said, scooping up a bit of her crème brûlée, which was so delicious that each bite was like a symphony on her taste buds. “In fact, I’d like to take that little dog Coconut back with me when I return to Canada. I’m not sure how that works, though. I’d hate for him to have to spend a long time in quarantine or anything.”
The look he gave her was unfathomable, but he nodded. “We’re rabies free, and have good contact with the Canadian government. I’m sure it can be arranged.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said, smiling across at him, happy in a way she couldn’t remember being before.
Their gazes met, held, and the now-familiar heat flooded her system, until it felt as though warm honey flowed in her veins.
It was then, at that moment, she decided.
She wanted him, and she wanted him here, at Villa Frangipani, the most beautiful place in the world.
Now, if she could just figure out how to let him know without embarrassing herself in the process.