Surgeon Prince, Cinderella Bride

by Ann Mcintosh

  What a lie.

  What she needed was to get home to Canada, and get on with rebuilding her life. The delay—something about the plane needing a small repair—wasn’t helping at all.

  They were supposed to have flown straight on to London, where she would overnight, and then continue the journey the following day. The unexpected stop would be frustrating if she weren’t so numb.

  Even now, five hours into the trip, she couldn’t believe she’d actually left Farhan, forever. Yet it was the right thing to do, for both of them. Hopefully one day he would wake up and realize he was so much more, so much better than he gave himself credit for. That he had more to offer than just being a surgeon, or a prince, or even a king, and it was within his capabilities to do all of them well, as well as being a wonderful husband and father.

  As for her? She’d survive, but she was leaving love behind. Not because it was too painful, but because there would never be anyone like Farhan in her life again. He was one of a kind, and all she wanted. No one else would ever compare.

  She closed her eyes, leaning her head back, ineffably weary, homesick for the place she’d just left her heart in.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Eyes flying open, she spun in her seat, unable to believe what her ears were telling her.

  But it was true. Farhan Alaoui, Crown Prince of Kalyana, was lowering himself into the seat beside her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He hesitated before answering, and then his chin tipped up, and he said, “I came to Dubai to tell my wife that I have been the biggest fool that ever was. That I love her with all my heart, and I’m hoping she’ll come home with me, so I can prove to her, every day and every night, that I understand now.”

  “U-understand? Understand what, Farhan?”

  “That running from my emotions, or locking them away, doesn’t mean I don’t have them. That fleeing from pain doesn’t mean it won’t catch up. That loving you isn’t something to fear, but something to embrace, and be grateful and thankful for.

  “And I understand, too, how I hurt you when I treated our relationship as though it were still a business deal, despite knowing it was far more. But I didn’t want you to suffer, financially, for my own cowardice.”

  He reached for her hand, curved his fingers around hers, the touch like a balm to her battered, sorrowful soul, as he continued, “And I am grateful, and thankful for you, Sara. Perhaps you don’t love me, but I know without a doubt you care about me, and if that’s all you want to give, I will gladly take it.”

  Amazed, she shook her head.

  “But you must know I love you, Farhan. That I didn’t argue when you said I should leave because I couldn’t settle for the crumbs of your affection, no matter how nicely you treated me or how good we were together in bed.”

  His fingers tightened on hers almost painfully, and his eyes flashed with that dark fire she loved so much. “Crumbs? You have my whole heart, beautiful. My soul. You’re my everything. I should have told you how devastated I was when I heard you weren’t pregnant; how much I’d hoped and prayed you were, so you would have to stay with me. If I have the honor of being father to your children, no one in the world would be happier than I.”

  Heart pounding, she stared at him, trying to decide whether he meant it or not.

  But it was there, in his eyes, the tense set of his gorgeous mouth, even that arrogant tilt of his chin, letting her know it was real.

  “Oh, Farhan.”

  And he must have heard the answer in her voice, as he reached over the arms of their club chairs to pull her close.

  “Tell me you love me again, beautiful,” he whispered into her ear. “I need to hear it again.”

  So she told him, and, when pressed, promised to tell him every day for the rest of their lives.

  For an instant time seemed to slow, allowing her to commit the moment to memory, like a snapshot. And in that single frame, safe once more in Farhan’s arms, life truly was perfect.

  “My Princess,” he murmured. “My love, forever.”

  And Sara knew, like everything Farhan said, it was the truth.

  The Surgeon Prince was hers, for always.

  * * *

  Look out for the next story in the Cinderellas to Royal Brides duet

  Royal Doc’s Secret Heir

  by Amy Ruttan

  And if you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Ann McIntosh

  The Surgeon’s One Night to Forever

  The Nurse’s Pregnancy Miracle

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Royal Doc’s Secret Heir by Amy Ruttan.

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  Royal Doc’s Secret Heir

  by Amy Ruttan

  CHAPTER ONE

  IT HAD BEEN a long time since she’d been home. Jeena’s heart beat triple time as the relief plane that was carrying medical supplies and her team of doctors and nurses approached the island kingdom of Kalyana.

  She took a deep calming breath as the cloud cover evaporated and the jewel of an island set against the Indian Ocean came into view.

  Her home.

  Only Kalyana hadn’t been her home. Not for a long time. Not since that night ten years ago when her father had woken her up and told her they were leaving Kalyana.

  They were all leaving because they were in danger.

  She hadn’t wanted to go and didn’t know where they were going, but her parents needed her and she needed them. So she’d left Kalyana for Canada.

  She hadn’t regretted it. It had been for the best. Still, she’d never thought she’d see Kalyana again.

  She glanced down at her Canadian passport gripped tightly in her hand and hoped she’d be allowed in.

  Her father had made it clear they couldn’t go back. They should never go back. They hadn’t been banished, but her father had said they weren’t welcome in Kalyana. Because of her indiscretion, they would be judged. Harshly.

  Jeena still found that hard to believe in this day in age, but her father had been adamant. He wanted to protect her and her unborn child.

  The Canadian consulate had assured her that the visa had been cleared. That there shouldn’t be any issues.

  There shouldn’t be a risk of someone waiting to pounce on her to ask her about her son and pry into her private life. She knew deep down there was nothing to fear. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

  All she’d done was become pregnant and decide to have her child. A lot of women were single mothers so there was n
o reason she would have to watch her back, but still those old anxieties were creeping into the back of her mind. The night her father had insisted they leave. He’d been so scared. He’d thought they were in danger and Jeena knew that someone had made him think that.

  And it was all because of who her son’s father was. If it had been someone else, they probably wouldn’t have left...

  “Why do we have to leave?” she asked.

  “Lady Meleena said that the King will take your child!” her father said. “We have to go to keep our family together. Your child would be looked down upon. Do you really want that?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “But we can’t afford to leave.”

  “Lady Meleena will help us. She just asks that we never come back. That we never contact anyone and keep your pregnancy secret. I promised her that for your safety.”

  “How does Lady Meleena know?” Jeena asked, confused. “No one but Mother and you know. Did you tell someone?”

  “Of course not!” her father exclaimed. “Someone at the clinic told her.”

  “Why would someone at the clinic tell her?”

  “Because people know about who you were seen with and it wasn’t long before Lady Meleena put two and two together. Meleena’s father invests in my plantation. There would be scandal for all of us, and Lady Meleena wanted to take care of us.”

  “I’m pregnant. I didn’t commit a crime!”

  Her father hugged her. “Of course you didn’t, but Lady Meleena knows first-hand how an illegitimate child with a parent in the aristocracy can be treated. Look at her half-brother Kamal. He was treated so poorly by his peers and then he died in that terrible accident.”

  “But—”

  “No buts!” her father snapped. “We’re leaving. It’s the best thing for you and the baby. It will protect our family’s name and avert scandal for all concerned.”

  Guilt coursed through her. “Yes, Father. You’re right.”

  Jeena shook the memory away and clenched her Canadian passport tighter in her fist.

  The consulate might say that she was cleared to return and work in Kalyana, but was Lady Meleena, soon-to-be royal bride, okay with it?

  They’d left ten years ago to save face and her father was indebted to Lady Meleena for her assistance, but then three years ago Lady Meleena had become engaged to the father of Jeena’s unborn baby and a little part of Jeena couldn’t help but wonder if Meleena had had her eyes set on a certain prize right from the start.

  It had bothered her for years that Lady Meleena had taken such an interest in her.

  Does it matter? He wouldn’t have married you anyway. He couldn’t. His family would have chosen his bride, and they wouldn’t have chosen a farmer’s daughter.

  Her stomach twisted and she tried to relax on the last little bit of the long trip from Canada to Kalyana, only she knew she wouldn’t feel at ease until they landed and she was cleared by customs. She was breaking her father’s promise to Lady Meleena about never returning.

  You didn’t promise.

  Jeena relaxed then. She was different now. She wasn’t such a pushover.

  This had been her home, whether Lady Meleena liked it or not. She was going to do her job here. She had no wish to interfere in Meleena or Maazin’s life.

  Even then, she wasn’t sure she could relax, visa or not. She glanced out the window again and a lump formed in her throat, tears stinging her eyes as she saw the island get closer.

  Home.

  This was where her family had lived and thrived on the same vanilla plantation for generations and it was all her fault that it no longer belonged to her family. All because she’d got involved with and fallen in love with the wrong person.

  “You okay?”

  Jeena glanced at Teresa, one of the other doctors who had come to help with the relief efforts.

  “Yeah, fine.” Jeena forced herself to smile brightly. “Just missing my son.”

  Which wasn’t a complete lie. She did miss her son. She’d never really been apart from him for this long and with this much of a distance between them.

  He was safe in Canada with her parents. His competitive junior hockey team was in the finals and they were playing at Scotiabank Saddledome, which was a huge deal. He’d gone on and on about it for months. As had her father.

  Syman was the reason her parents had taken Lady Meleena’s aid and come to Canada, and why she needed them. She couldn’t have raised him alone in Kalyana or Canada. She couldn’t have become a surgeon without their help, and becoming a surgeon had been hard even with their help.

  Still, there were things Syman would never know about Kalyana. Things she’d experienced that he’d never get to, like playing on the sand of a pearl-pink beach or swimming in a turquoise sea. Running through her father’s vanilla fields or climbing a palm tree to stare out over the Indian Ocean.

  Canada had been a good home for them and Syman loved his life there, even with the ice and snow that Jeena had never gotten used to. That she didn’t miss.

  If you’d stayed in Kalyana, Syman wouldn’t even be interested in hockey.

  Kalyana was near the Seychelles and was very traditional. Hockey wasn’t one of the sports played in Kalyana. If she had raised Syman here, he would probably be into cricket.

  Or polo?

  Jeena shook that thought away. She didn’t want to think about Syman’s father and how she had met him during a divot stomp at a match she should’ve never been at. She had only gone because her friend had dragged her along and during the divot stomp she’d lost her footing and been rescued by the man of her dreams.

  Well, she hadn’t been completely sure when she’d first met him. Maazin had been a known playboy and she’d known she should keep away, but when he had been with her, he hadn’t been the bad boy that everyone had said he was. He had been different.

  So kind and caring.

  And the more time they’d spent together, the more she’d truly believed he’d loved her.

  Her heart skipped a beat just thinking about him. She’d been a fool. Young and naive.

  Don’t think about him.

  Only it was hard not to. He was never really far from her thoughts. The older Syman got, the more he looked like his father, the more she saw the only man she had ever loved. Syman was all the good parts of his father. He was kind and caring. Also driven and stubborn.

  Her heart may have been broken, but she loved Syman and she was grateful that her time with Maazin had given her her son.

  “You’ll see Syman soon. And I’m sure his team will win the tourney,” Teresa said brightly, interrupting her thoughts of Syman’s father.

  Jeena chuckled. “They’d better or he’ll be lamenting it until next hockey season.”

  Teresa laughed and went back to her book.

  Jeena glanced at the reading material she’d brought for the long flight from Dubai, which was just one of the flights she’d been on since they departed from Vancouver. She really didn’t know which way was up and given that there was a significant time zone difference, she couldn’t help but wonder if Syman had actually won his tournament. Maybe he’d already played?

  I should be there.

  Only this was her job and her father had taught her and given her a work ethic she stood by. Kalyana needed her and her new country, Canada, needed her to represent them in the best possible light. She understood the customs. She knew the terrain and the people.

  Even if it meant facing something that she wasn’t sure that she was ready to face.

  And when she closed her eyes she could still feel Maazin’s arms around her, but then she was reminded of the pain when he’d turned his back on her, when Lady Meleena had told her he’d chosen his duty over her. When Lady Meleena had told her father that Syman would be an outcast. That Jeena would be an outcast because he would not marry her,
even though he knew she was pregnant.

  Then, a few years later, it had been announced that Prince Maazin had chosen his bride. None other than Jeena’s supposed savior, Lady Meleena.

  She shouldn’t care, but it made her angry. Jeena knew her family had been manipulated.

  Don’t worry about it. Maazin isn’t part of your life.

  And she had to keep remembering that.

  He hadn’t been there for her when she’d had Syman. Neither had he been there when she’d scrimped and saved, worked odd jobs while attending medical school. That had been all her. She didn’t need him. She was better off without him.

  Syman was better off without him.

  Are you sure?

  “We’re making our final descent into Huban. Please buckle up. It’s a bit windy and there has been some damage to the airstrip from the cyclone so it might be a rough landing,” the pilot said over the speaker.

  “Here we go,” Teresa said, setting down her book and buckling up her seatbelt.

  Jeena nodded and pulled her seatbelt tighter. She kept her eyes focused on Kalyana as it got closer and closer. She could see the damage. Trees ripped from their roots, buildings along the coast destroyed, but there on the main terminal still flew the blue, green and gold flag of Kalyana. Untouched and fluttering in the strong winds in a clear blue sky. A sight she’d thought she’d never see again.

  It helped tame the erratic beat of her heart.

  She was home.

  * * *

  Maazin waited on the edge of the tarmac in a van to help transport medical supplies to the makeshift hospital that he and Farhan had set up between Huban and the southeast district, which had been the hardest hit when Cyclone Blandine had ripped through Kalyana.

  Kavan, the bodyguard who also acted as chauffer-pilot, had seemed keen to accompany Maazin, but he’d eventually agreed it was best he stay with Farhan, Maazin’s older brother, Sara, and her grandfather, Mr. Raj. Ever since the cyclone had hit, Farhan had been jumpy, fussing and fuming over his new bride.

  Not that Maazin could blame him.

  If he had someone he loved...