The Sheikh's Sleeping Beauty Nanny

by Shay Violet

  It’s a cozy little nook, with a white fuzzy rug on the floor. There’s also a purple bean bag chair in the corner, seated right beside the bookshelf.

  “What a cute little reading area,” I say and smile. “Pick anything you want.”

  “What do you want to read?” She asks.

  I grin warmly. “Surprise me.”

  Nadia shuffles over to the bookshelf and skirts her thumb across the spines of each book on the shelf. She sticks out her tongue and narrows her eyes in concentrated contemplation.

  She picks one of her choosing and then happily meets me in the bed. I tuck the sheets around her, enveloping her into a warm and cozy cocoon until she’s nice and comfortable.

  I see she has picked a book about a dog that gets lost on the beach but has a happy ending when the little boy who owns the dog finds him.

  When I finish the last page, I notice that Nadia still appears to be wide awake. She gazes at me expectantly. I replace the book on her nightstand and clasp my hands in my lap.

  “Do you want me to fetch another book off the shelf to read?” I ask.

  “No.” She shakes her head. “I want you to tell me a story.”

  “Another fairy tale?” I ask.

  She grins from ear to ear and nods. Her tiny body is molded into the sheets and pillows. “Yes, please.”

  “Well since you said please, you’ve got it.” I give her the warmest smile I offer because I know that she needs it and deserves the affectionate attention.

  I couldn’t imagine growing up without my mother, so I do my best to be empathetic to her needs because of her loss.

  I raise my eyes to the ceiling as my mind ponders over which fairy tale in my head might be best for Nadia to help her go to sleep faster. She’s looking more relaxed now, and her eyelids are batting heavily. I still think she needs just a little extra nudge to go over the edge into sleepy town.

  I prop myself up on my elbow, turn on my side and give her a whimsical glance, smiling enormously so that she’ll get excited about hearing the tale.

  “Do you know the story of Rapunzel?”

  She frowns, cocking her head to the side. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “It’s about a princess, just like you.”

  I nip at her nose playfully and she giggles, pulling the sheets up closer around her waist. She adjusts herself and crosses her legs under the sheets, gazing at me with fondness.

  “She gets taken as a baby by a mean old woman—”

  “Why?” Nadia’s eyebrows form a thin line of worry.

  “Because her hair had magical powers,” I explain.

  “Whose hair?” Nadia asks.

  “The princess.” I smile. “The woman locks her in a tower and doesn’t ever let her go outside. Her hair grows longer and longer until it gets so long that she can use her hair to escape from the tower.”

  “How does she do that?” Nadia frowns skeptically.

  “She uses the hair as a rope,” I say. “Then she climbs down, using the hair to get her to the ground safely.”

  Nadia grows quiet as I continue the story. I can tell that something is bothering her about it, so I stop before it’s over.

  “Hey,” I whisper and lean forward. I gently stroke her warm cheek. “Why so glum all of the sudden? Do you not like this story?”

  Nadia’s eyes pool with tears. My heart drops, sinking like a plummeting ship to the bottom of the ocean. Immediately, I worry that I’ve done something terribly wrong and now debate about whether my job will be compromised because of it.

  “Nadia?” I gently press.

  She closes her eyes and her face is solemn. She’s quiet for several agonizingly long seconds.

  “My mommy used to brush my hair every night before bed,” she whispers.

  She opens her eyes, but she’s staring blankly at her sheets. Her tiny fingernails are painted pink. Her hands are clasped together in her lap.

  “You have pretty hair, Nadia,” I say.

  The last thing I want to do is offend her or upset her any further than I’m already doing.

  Her eyes are sad and full of pain when she finally lifts them and meets my gaze. Her eyelashes are wet, but no tears drip down her face.

  “Did you just tell me that story because you want to brush my hair? Are you just trying to tell me that my hair is really messy and needs to be fixed?”

  Her tiny voice cracks slightly, breaking my heart in two.

  “I just thought of Rapunzel because you both have pretty hair,” I say, trying to recover the little girl’s emotions before they spiral out of control. It’s late, and I don’t want her going to bed upset.

  Nadia goes quiet again. She inspects her fingers and narrows her eyes, refusing to look at me.

  I think on the spot of something that might make her feel better. “You should never do anything unless you want to.”

  Nadia’s expression is introspective. “Really?”

  “Of course.” I pat her knee that’s tucked under the sheets. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” She wrinkles her forehead in confusion.

  “For pushing you. It’s not my place, and I shouldn’t have done it. Especially not on my first night with you.” I roll my eyes and chuckle ironically. “I can be such an egghead sometimes.”

  I make the declaration to lighten the mood, but Nadia turns her back to me again. She rolls over onto her side, staring at the wall in front of her.

  When I attempt to rest my hand on her back, she subtly squirms away from my touch.

  “Nadia?” I ask. My heart is pounding with anxiety.

  She doesn’t say anything for several seconds. “I just want to go to sleep.”

  “Are you tired?” I know from her perspective; I probably sound like I don’t believe her.

  Nadia is silent. If I listen carefully enough, I bet I could hear a pin drop.

  “Okay, I’ll just let you get some sleep then,” I say and carefully raise myself off the bed.

  I stand over her for a few moments, debating on whether I should try to rope the sheets around her to make her extra snug, but internal intuition holds me back. I think I should just leave her alone. I wonder if I’ve pressed her too hard and made a terrible first impression with her on my first official night as her nanny.

  I turn off the light and a night light instantly switches on, on the wall by her bed. It illuminates the room with a tranquil bluish hue that’s calming.

  “Goodnight,” I whisper, wondering if she can hear me, but if she can, she doesn’t respond.

  I crack the door as quietly as I can and absentmindedly drift back to my wing of the mansion, mentally anguishing over whether I have already jeopardized my job before I ever got a chance to take flight.

  12

  Jai

  My uneasy thoughts about the phone call I received in the car earlier that night are relentlessly probing my mind. My brain won’t shut down, no matter how aggressively I try to make it happen. My mind keeps cutting back to the disturbing call and the fact that I had left Aurora in a lurch.

  If it happens again, I don’t know how I will react. I’m not a violent man by nature, but I’ll do anything to protect my daughter’s life if someone is out there aiming to harm her. I won’t be a target, and I won’t allow my loved ones to be intimidated either.

  I’m not paying attention to my surroundings, and I’m just wandering aimlessly. I pace up and down the second-floor hallway when Aurora swings around the corner.

  She nearly collides with me, but I steer away a split second before we crash.

  Aurora’s eyes skirt up and down me and her mouth hangs open in surprise. Her fingers are shaking. She appears frazzled.

  “I’m… sorry,” she quickly states.

  I smile at her, attempting to soften her frustration.

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” she clarifies.

  “To be fair, neither was I.” I
chuckle to ease her mind. “It’s really no big deal.”

  She plants on a paltry smile. “Well, at least we didn’t bump into each other.”

  Would that be such a bad thing? I might enjoy an impact from her petite body slamming into mine. I might welcome any physical contact from her, even though I know it’s pushing the boundaries of appropriate behavior. My mind quickly flashes to an image of our naked bodies thrusting and grinding up against each other.

  Unfortunately, I don’t have any authority over my imagination in the private crevices of my mind. I can fantasize to my heart’s content if it keeps me from physically doing something naughty with the nanny we might regret later. Fantasies don’t hurt anyone.

  Upon further inspection, there is something about her somber demeanor that gives me a suspicion she might be upset about something.

  “Is something wrong?” I ask her, wondering if her bedroom isn’t up to her standards or if she is uncomfortable about me lingering with her in the empty hallway.

  Her eyes look everywhere except at me.

  “Did something happen with Nadia?” My heart pounds nervously.

  Aurora’s eyes quickly dart back to me. “No. Of course not. Nadia is fine.”

  “Are you sure that everything is okay? You seem a little bothered if you don’t mind me asking. I just want you to be comfortable—”

  “You’re right…” she trails off. “I think there is a problem, and I think it’s… me.”

  “What do you mean?” I’m having trouble understanding what she’s trying to tell me.

  I hope I’m not reading mixed signals, but it’s difficult to tell.

  For a fleeting moment that horrifies me, Aurora looks like she might cry. Her features twist with a torment so brief, I almost miss it. She needs to say something. She needs to say anything to cut through the tension.

  The moment is slightly awkward, but, I am so aroused by her beauty I have to hold myself back. It’s taking all the restraint I can prevent myself from caving to the temptation, to snake my arms around her and hug her close to my body. I long to help her release the mental torment she’s apparently going through.

  “I think I… told the wrong story to her tonight when I was just putting her to bed.”

  She gestures her thumb over her shoulder toward Nadia’s room. She’s looking at the floor as she speaks.

  This is a silly assumption, but I navigate the conversation carefully.

  “How could a story make her upset?”

  Aurora looks at me and her face is etched soberly. She wants me to take her seriously.

  “The stories are very important, especially at bedtime because going to sleep with hope can change your whole perspective for the next day, it can make all the difference if you feel peaceful going to bed.”

  I don’t know what point she’s trying to make, so I wait for her to elaborate with a cajoling nod.

  “The characters in stories can almost seem like… friends when you feel alone,” she clarifies.

  Is she suggesting that my daughter feels alone? It’s not a long shot, and it makes my stomach hurt to think about it because I would be to blame in that circumstance.

  “However, the wrong story at the wrong time could also make you feel more lost and alone than you were before.” She mutters at the end, almost inaudibly as she stares at the floor.

  I measure my response carefully. “Why would that happen? What kind of story, or fairy tale could you possibly have recited to Nadia to pose this effect on her?”

  Aurora licks her lips nervously. She looks even more enticingly beautiful when she’s vulnerable.

  “I’m not mad at you,” I reassure her. “I am just a little… confused.”

  Aurora’s eyes soften with relief. Her gaze suddenly turns sensual. Is she tempting me to kiss her? Surely, I’m misreading her expression. I keep my carnal appetite to myself.

  “I told her the story of Rapunzel,” she admits.

  I frown. “Rapunzel? What’s so bad about that one?”

  Maybe I’m not as familiar with the story as I think.

  Before she explains, I stop her.

  “Wait,” I say after some internal digging to remember. “Is that one where she uses her long hair to climb out of a tower where she’s held captive?”

  Aurora nods. “Yes.”

  She nibbles on her bottom lip and shifts her weight with a twinge of underlying misery.

  I sigh and give her a benevolent smile. “Nadia is a little… peculiar about her hair. She has surprising restrictions about grooming it.”

  “What are her restrictions?” Aurora stares at me.

  “Well, for starters, she won’t let anyone touch it,” I say and look away. “Not since her mother died.” I look at Aurora. “I suppose that much is obvious, given its current condition.”

  I give her an abashed smile because I’ve failed in trying to get Nadia’s hair under control.

  “Nadia has gorgeous hair,” Aurora offers with a sympathetic smile.

  She clasps her hands together. There’s an alluring twinkle in her eyes.

  “You don’t have to mollify—”

  “No, I mean it,” Aurora insists. “It has potential.” Her smile is inspirational.

  “She used to brush it occasionally,” I admit, “that was more initially, right after her mother died, but then she suddenly… stopped.”

  “Maybe she just doesn’t want to face the memories,” Aurora suggests sensibly.

  “It’s a possibility.” I nod, suddenly feeling pensive.

  I try to fish through memories back to a time when the fiasco with the hair issues started in the first place, but maybe my own mental barriers about my wife’s death have prevented me from recalling the origin.

  “Do you ever try to brush it yourself?” Aurora’s question is innocent enough as she gazes up at me with curious eyes.

  “Not in a long time,” I confess. “We had issues with the nanny before you. She couldn’t let it go. She tried to push the hair debate too far, and Nadia rebelled.”

  “Is that why she ran away?” Aurora asks.

  “It probably has something to do with it,” I admit.

  I prop my back against the hallway wall and gaze up at the ceiling, feeling like I have no solution for my daughter’s emotional strife. It’s affecting her physical appearance and costing me a lot of unnecessary headache.

  “Maybe I made her uncomfortable.” Aurora’s eyes are downcast, and her voice sounds apologetic.

  I look at her, but she doesn’t gaze my way.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I try to cheer her up. “She’ll bounce back in the morning.”

  The side of Aurora’s full lips bend into a subtle smile.

  “I won’t bring up the subject of hair with her again,” Aurora promises.

  “I do believe she looks up to you already. I can tell she likes you, much more than the prior nanny. It’s okay to give yourself more credit.” I smile at her encouragingly.

  Aurora contemplates. “I might still use baby steps with her. I want her to trust me and feel safe around me.”

  “I appreciate you trying so hard,” I say. “It helps me feel more comfortable too.”

  “That’s my goal.” Aurora’s smile is as earnest as they come. “I try to put sincere effort into everything I do.” She chuckles and gives me an ironic smile. “I know that probably sounds lame and cliché, but it’s true.”

  “It doesn’t sound lame at all.” I step forward, closer to her.

  There’s a moment where our eyes lock and I swear her seductive gaze is going to be engrained into my heart forever.

  Aurora’s smile twists downward, but she doesn’t break eye contact with me. “Are you saying you think I’m capable?”

  She looks like she needs a little encouraging boost. “I wouldn’t have hired you if I didn’t have confidence in your abilities.”

  “You don’t even know me…” She finally breaks my gaze, and it makes me disappointed.

&
nbsp; “I know enough. I see your sincerity,” I whisper.

  I feel like my insides are sizzling, raw with a desire I can’t keep at bay much longer.

  How did our conversation steer in such a steamy direction in such a short amount of time? Is the chemistry between us that passionately urgent?

  “I’ll continue to do my best and not worry things meanwhile.” She blinks her beautiful dark eyes at me. “Easier said than done, right?”

  “Don’t worry,” I say. My voice is scratchy with longing.

  “Thanks.” Her expression is warm and welcoming.

  “You aren’t the only one who feels like they hit brick walls,” I confess.

  “Yeah?” She looks hopeful.

  “I try to inspire my daughter all the time to improve her appearance and to take care of herself.” I take a pause and receive an empathetic look from Aurora.

  “Every time I’ve ever tried to comfort her, it just seems to make her even more distant than she was before. I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong on that front, but I know that she must feel alone without a female advocate. When you came along, that sparkle was back in her eyes and I just knew I had to make it present more often.”

  Aurora seems enlightened by my compliment, but her smile is wan. “You are probably just trying to make me feel better.”

  “Partly,” I say and give her a more fervid smile. “Is it that obvious?” Maybe she’ll find my charm refreshing.

  She gives me an incredulous sideways glance. “What are you doing up so late, anyway? You looked like you were pacing when I ran into you.”

  I am taken aback by the directness of her question, but I don’t let it show on the surface. Besides, I’m happy that she’s blossoming with our conversation.

  “I always work late,” I say. “You know, burning the midnight oil.”

  “I don’t doubt a man of your status would need to work around the clock.” She nods in a satisfied manner, but she still gives me a dubious half-smile. “You still seem like you have something on your mind. You helped me just now, so I figured I would return the favor. If there’s something you want to vent about, I have always had a listening ear.”