Surgeon Prince, Cinderella Bride

by Ann Mcintosh

  She was perfect. Perfect for him. And the urge to declare her his, to put his stamp on her for all to see, was almost overwhelming. Nothing he’d ever experienced before had prepared him for this.

  For making love to a woman, instead of merely seeking sexual release.

  “Farhan...”

  He loved how she said his name, both question and demand, her voice gravelly with desire; acceded to the demand and answered the question with long, slow thrusts. Her short nails dug into his back, and she shuddered again and again.

  “Yes,” she whimpered. “Oh, yes.”

  Her responsiveness was almost his undoing, and he had to pause to regain some semblance of control.

  “Don’t stop,” she moaned. “Oh, Farhan, don’t stop.”

  He was losing his grip, ready to spiral into orgasm, and he didn’t want to go alone. Heaving to his knees, he pulled Sara closer, seating himself fully inside her. She gasped, her legs locking around his waist, her fingers gripping the sheet on either side of her hips.

  Then he reached down, found her clitoris with his thumb, as he began to thrust again.

  She came apart, crying out his name, and it was all he needed to follow her into bliss.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE DAYS THAT followed were the best of Sara’s life.

  While in public Farhan’s behavior toward her didn’t change, at night he was the lover she hadn’t known she’d wanted, but now realized she’d always dreamt of.

  Tender, attentive to her needs, fiercely arousing her and making sure satisfaction was achieved, for them both. In her case, multiple times.

  It was like being caught up in an erotic fantasy, and whenever he said, “Come here, beautiful,” she knew the dream was about to come true, again.

  The only incident that could have marred her happiness came the day after they’d made love for the first time, and she’d screwed up the courage to say, “If we’re going to continue sleeping together, you’re going to keep needing to use protection, always. Or at least until I can get back to the hospital and go on the Pill.”

  Farhan’s face was expressionless as he surveyed her for a couple of long seconds, but his chin tipped up in that habitual, arrogant look he had. Then it seemed as though he would speak, but stayed silent.

  When he didn’t answer, Sara continued, “Farhan, you don’t want a child, and neither do I under these circumstances.”

  His lips firmed into a thin line, then he replied, “Of course.”

  Then he changed the subject, speaking about the rest of their tour.

  The switch to something so impersonal made Sara’s stomach dip, and she’d wondered if she’d ruined the sexual closeness they’d only just found. But she shouldn’t have worried. That night Farhan had come to her room, lightly knocking on the connecting door, not entering until she’d called out for him to do so.

  “Would you welcome my company?” he’d asked, solemn-faced, his eyes watchful.

  And, of course, she’d said yes.

  She wanted all she could get of Farhan while she still could.

  Seated at the vanity, she’d been brushing out her hair when he’d entered, and Farhan had come to stand behind her, his gaze intent on her reflection.

  “I like it when your hair is down,” he’d said quietly, as he’d taken the brush from her hand. “Why don’t you leave it down more often?”

  “It’s very hard to handle, and the humidity here tends to make it go a little nuts. Even Mara has trouble getting it to behave.”

  He stroked the brush through so gently, she felt tears sting the backs of her eyes, and was glad he was concentrating on what he was doing, rather than on her face. It was a surreal, fairy-tale type of moment, and for once she felt she belonged in such a situation. Something about Kalyana had changed her, made her more confident, able to deal with whatever came her way.

  “May I sleep in here with you tonight?” he asked quietly, still not looking at her face.

  “I hoped you would,” she replied.

  And when their gazes met then in the mirror, a wave of need and happiness made her smile up at him.

  * * *

  Leaving Villa Frangipani felt like being torn away from Paradise, but it was time to return to reality, and the job at hand, at least during the day. Joined by Kavan, Mara, and Seth, they started there in Agung.

  While their main mission was to survey the women on the various islands regarding their medical needs, there were also a lot of official functions they were expected to attend. It became an exhausting excursion, but at night all her fantasies continued to come true and that made it bearable.

  She’d hoped taking their relationship to a physical level would somehow cool her ardor but, instead, Sara’s attraction to Farhan grew more intense each day. She found herself watching his hands, his face, noticing the way he walked, hoarding the memory of each smile.

  To take her mind off her obsession with Farhan, at least some of the time, she threw herself into interacting with the women, finding it incredibly informative and interesting.

  “In truth, I don’t think we need a women’s clinic,” one lady told Sara, when she visited a local hospital on one of the north central islands. “Rather, it would be better if we simply had more female doctors available at the hospital and rural clinics.”

  That seemed to be the general consensus among most of the women she spoke to. Some said that while dedicated women’s clinics would be nice, recruiting more female practitioners would be just as effective.

  By the time they were halfway through their tour, Sara felt she had a good handle on how the women felt, and reported their concerns to Farhan. He listened to her and then nodded.

  “There is a disproportionate number of male doctors recruited to work here, and I’m not sure why that is. It’s something worth looking into.”

  She knew there was no medical school in Kalyana, and many of their medical practitioners were recruited from other countries. “Are there grants, programs to encourage young women to study medicine abroad and then come back here to practice? That would be the best option, since they’d be returning to their own land, already knowing the culture, rather than bringing in strangers. And if grants are too expensive, set it up in such a way that they can work off their med school fees over time. Then they’d have a real incentive to come back.”

  They were sitting outside after dinner at another of the royal family’s residences, this one a miniature fortress in the hills on one of the central islands. The Governor had explained that when the British had used the main town as a transshipment point, there had been periodic outbreaks of malaria because of the swampy land surrounding the port. With there being fewer mosquitos at higher elevations, they’d built the fortress to retire to, a place where they could feel secure even when in poor health. It had become a royal residence once the British had left.

  It still retained the aura of its colonial past, with dark heavy furniture and overstuffed chintz-covered chairs and sofas, nothing like any of the other residences Sara had seen. Yet it also had a timeless quality she liked, harkening back to the past, untouched by the often seen need to ruthlessly drag everything into modernity. Sitting on a comfortable love seat, Farhan beside her, holding her hand and playing with her fingers, Sara was enjoying the cool, fragrant mountain air.

  “Again, something to look into. I know there are a handful of scholarships handed out each year, but perhaps setting one up that’s strictly for young women would be useful.”

  “And ensure girls are encouraged to study sciences in schools. I know Kalyana is fairly progressive and egalitarian when it comes to women’s rights, but even in North America there are still ingrained biases against it. Maybe you should also think about what it would take to set up a university, so young people don’t have to leave the country to study in the first place.”

  If she had
been going to remain in Kalyana, that would be a cause she’d get involved with. But she wasn’t, as she had to keep reminding herself. For once she felt as though she was where she belonged, and just the thought of leaving opened a hole in her chest.

  It had nothing to do with Farhan, she told herself stoutly. While his lovemaking was amazing, catapulting her into the sexual stratosphere, there was no place in their relationship for emotion. She wouldn’t allow herself to care for him, knowing it would be completely one-sided. Part of what made the intimacy between them work was both of them knowing it was safe, and neither would make things difficult.

  She was on a journey of discovery, learning new things about herself, her desires and ambitions. And what she found was truly eye-opening.

  Far from being the passive mouse she’d always assumed herself to be, she’d realized hidden strengths, especially in bed with Farhan. She wasn’t content to let him always take the lead, set the pace. Learning his body, what turned him on and made him wild, became a mission of sorts, one she embraced with gusto.

  His ears were particularly sensitive, and his back was one big erogenous zone, which she put to good use. Even on occasion in public, which, as she surreptitiously ran a finger down it, earned her some stern looks from him, making her hard pressed to contain giggles.

  He’d acceded to her wishes, and they always used condoms. And when one night she’d taken the little packet from his hand and offered to put it on for him, the way his face tightened told her volumes.

  After that it became a part of their play, an island of quiet in the storm of their lovemaking, although no less arousing for the tenderness of it.

  “You make me lose myself,” he said to her one night, as she carefully smoothed on the prophylactic, and coming from the contained, controlled Farhan, it filled her with joy.

  Their tour was coming to an end, and Sara wasn’t sure if she were happy about it or not. They’d been somewhat freer while traveling than they’d been in Huban, Farhan more relaxed. Yet their stint in the capital had been before they’d gotten this close. Perhaps, hopefully, their newfound intimacy would continue once they were back in the palace, despite the additional pressure Farhan would be under.

  He was needed back in Huban, and their schedule would have to be accelerated.

  “The surgeon who was missing the day we arrived has left the islands to return to his home, and the hospital is short-staffed. I think they may have fired him for his unreliability. The director is requesting that I do some elective surgeries to allow them to catch up. They’ve already hired a replacement, but he won’t be arriving for a while.”

  They’d spent the day traveling around the largest of the southern islands, visiting a variety of rural clinics as well as the main hospital. Here, where there seemed to be a preponderance of women from mostly conservative families, the idea of a women’s clinic was more popular. But even they agreed, barring that, an increase in female doctors might work just as well.

  “Women understand women better,” a councilwoman said to Sara. “It’s more than just not wanting a strange man touching me. It’s also trying to explain to a male doctor something he has only read about in books but has never experienced for himself or has any chance of experiencing.”

  It was enlightening to see the difference between the attitudes in the northern islands in comparison to those in the south. They were all a part of Kalyana, but although the country itself was small, there was a lot of diversity in the way people lived and thought.

  When she mentioned that, Farhan said, “That’s one of the facts the monarchy ignored here for a long time. Queen Nargis treated all her subjects as though they were homogeneous, and everyone suffered for it. My father has his faults, can be stubborn and old-fashioned, but both he and my grandfather at least acknowledged the necessity of understanding the people and their various needs.”

  “And you’re working to expand that understanding.” It gave her a little rush of emotion, but she tamped it down. “It bodes well for the country’s future.”

  His expression was pensive, and he lifted her hand to kiss the inside of her wrist, making her shiver, before he replied.

  “Honestly, I feel ill prepared to rule. While I don’t regret my years away, sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have ignored my father and stayed after Ali died. Even now, my father seems reluctant to instruct me in various ways. I’m constantly feeling as though I’m winging it.”

  Squeezing his fingers, she said, “I can’t speak to your father’s state of mind, but I have no doubt you’ll be a wonderful king when the time comes. You’re smart, compassionate, and thoughtful.” She hesitated for a moment, then continued, “Perhaps you’re better off forging your own path anyway, rather than following the one set by your father and grandfather. After all, times have changed, and even the monarchy has to change with it.”

  He nodded, but didn’t reply. The silence between them grew, but Farhan was slowly rubbing his palm up and down her arm now, and gooseflesh popped up across her back.

  And when he said, “Ready for bed, beautiful?” she eagerly went with him.

  * * *

  How could he be so happy and in so much pain at the same time? Farhan wondered, as he watched Sara stoop down to speak to an elderly lady who couldn’t get up.

  They were in the village of Manan, the southernmost habitation on the southernmost island, on the final day of their tour. When Sara had heard that the oldest living inhabitant of Kalyana lived at a nursing home in the village, she’d insisted on going there to visit her. It was just another indication of Sara’s heart, and Farhan really didn’t need the reminder.

  At all.

  In truth, he resented how much joy he felt around her. Emotion wasn’t a part of the plan, yet here he was, having the shell he’d so carefully built up around his heart cracked, with the danger of it falling away altogether, letting her in.

  Now he felt the danger of the situation he’d created acutely.

  It had seemed the perfect plan: a marriage of convenience with no chance of it lasting.

  No chance of rejection.

  But all that had changed. Sara had changed him, fundamentally, at a soul-deep level. She’d made him look at things differently, somehow calming the storm he’d felt himself to be in the center of. He could face the future with the kind of equanimity he’d never thought he’d achieve. Yet somehow he doubted it would be the same without her at his side.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to crave her—her attention, smiles, time, body—the way he did.

  Every night he told himself it would be the last time he went to her, but the next he was pulled right back, following a golden bond he now felt tightening around his chest. The only good thing was that she clearly had no urge to stay in Kalyana, although her love for the country, and the people, was patently clear. She still spoke often about getting back to her family, who were still calling on her as though she was the only one who could solve all their problems. About opening a clinic in Northern Ontario. Calling Trinka to check on Coconut, the dog she wanted to take back with her.

  The dog he’d secretly, stupidly, sent a plane for, so it would be waiting for her when she got back to the palace.

  Wanting to please her, like a besotted fool.

  They still had months to go on their agreement. Would this drive to have her keep growing, until he wanted nothing more than to make her stay? Everything inside him rebelled at the potential agony such a situation would engender, yet there was a part of him that already hated the notion of her leaving at all.

  It was untenable, but he’d got himself into the situation, and couldn’t see a way out.

  Do you even want one?

  Only pride stopped him from growling aloud at the thought, and it took all his concentration to adopt a neutral expression so no one would guess his inner turmoil.

 
Sara finished talking and laughing with the elderly lady, who was approximately one hundred and four, according to the records, and came back over to join him and the rest of the official party. Her face was glowing, the love and joy she imparted to everyone around her almost visible to the naked eye. His chest ached just from looking at her, seeing the luminous beauty on display for all to see.

  One of the nursing home attendants came by to whisper to the director and, as Sara rejoined the group, the director said, “I know you’re on a tight schedule, but there is another patient of ours who would like to see you. He once was an aide to the Governor, and says he met you many years ago, Your Highness. If you have a few moments, I know he would appreciate it very much.”

  “Of course,” Farhan replied.

  As they walked down a corridor toward the room, the director said, “Mr. Raj has no family coming to visit him, and although he’s not bedridden he’s had a gastric upset, and we’ve kept him quarantined. He’s no longer contagious, just a bit weak, and we didn’t know you were coming, or we would have got him up. It will be real treat for him.”

  She opened a door, and ushered them into the small, neat room, where the patient lay. While his body was clearly thin and frail, making hardly a bump beneath the sheets, his eyes were bright.

  Then Mr. Raj looked at Sara, and his eyes filled with tears, which overflowed down his cheeks.

  Sara was at his bedside in an instant, leaning down to take his outstretched hand, bending to hear what he whispered to her.

  She jerked upright, her face pale, her gaze swinging to find Farhan, as he stood at the foot of the bed.

  He didn’t know what the old man had said to her but her expression had him stepping closer, reaching to pull her away, but she avoided his hand.

  “I-it’s okay,” she stuttered, but she looked past him at the other people in the doorway, and he saw the confused, almost frantic gleam in her eyes. “C-could we have a few minutes alone with Mr. Raj, please?”