The Nanny and the Sheikh

by Barbara McMahon

  “Hello, Grandmother,” they chorused.

  She held out her arms and they ran to hug her. Tears spilled from her eyes. “My precious ones,” she whispered in English. “I am happy to see you all.”

  In only a few moments she sat back, dabbed at her eyes, and smiled at the children. “I will have cakes and biscuits brought up.”

  She looked at Melissa. “If you like, I will ask for tea. I know the English like tea.”

  “Actually, Tante, I thought to show Melissa your gardens while you and the children visit,” Surim said. “Melissa enjoys flowers, and your garden is beautiful.”

  “Grown a bit wild lately, I think,” she said sadly, then gazed at the children. “But a good idea. You can report back on the work needed. Come, children, tell me all you’ve been doing since you arrived.”

  Surim led Melissa to the garden. It was quite tiny in comparison to his. Obviously a bit out of hand, as well.

  “Tante Tazil is her own gardener, and I think has neglected things in her sadness,” he said. “Do you recognize the flowers?”

  “Yes, I think I see old favorites everywhere,” Melissa said.

  “Are you an avid gardener?”

  “No, my mother likes to work with dirt, but not me. Though I do love flowers, as you said. This is a pretty setting, but I like your garden better.”

  “What do you like to do in your free time?” Surim asked.

  She looked at him, wondering if he ever had any free time. “I loved to ski in the winter in Switzerland. I like reading and exploring. I read about a place, then visit and explore as much as I can. The advantage of living in Switzerland was being so centralized in Europe. I had planned to do the same thing from Boston.”

  “Until your plans were changed.”

  She nodded.

  “So you like it here?”

  “Of course. But that doesn’t mean I want to work for you,” she said without thought.

  “Oh?”

  She glanced at him uneasily. “I like visiting,” she said. Let him make what he would out of that.

  They joined the others in the sunroom a short time later. Melissa thought the children’s grandmother looked much happier than she had when they had arrived.

  “You must leave so soon?”

  “We’ve been here long enough,” Surim said. “We will return again next week if you like. And you are always welcome to visit at my house; you know that.”

  “Maybe I shall.” Tante Tazil turned her attention to Melissa. “Would you mind taking the children into the garden for a moment? I wish to speak to His Excellency alone.”

  Surim watched as Melissa nodded and herded the children outside. He could guess what the older woman wished to talk about.

  “I understand you are looking for a wife, Surim,” she said, confirming his suspicions.

  Surim nodded warily. “Even sequestered as you, Tante, you seem to know what is going on.”

  “You can’t keep a secret; did you think you could? It is on the mind of everyone—whom shall you choose? I know a young woman who would be suitable. She was friends with Mara when they were young.”

  Surim involuntarily glanced through the window at Melissa. She was talking with Alaya and holding Nadia. For a moment, he could envision her holding a child of his. How would such an unsuitable match be perceived by his country?

  “Surim?” Tante Tazil said sharply. She followed his gaze and frowned. “I do hope the children won’t become too attached to the Englishwoman. The woman I’m thinking about has studied in Paris, so has a worldly cosmopolitan outlook that should appeal to you. Yasine bin Shora. I shall invite you both to dinner this week.”

  “I shall look forward to meeting her,” Surim said. For a moment he considered telling his aunt he had prior engagements at dinner—eating with the children. But he didn’t think she’d approve.

  Surim called Melissa back in, and Tazil smiled at each of the children as they hugged her goodbye.

  “Next week if I’m feeling better, you can come again.”

  “Do feel free to come visit at my house any time you wish, Tante Tazil,” Surim said, giving her a kiss on her cheek. “Just let Melissa know so she can make sure the children are there.”

  “The sooner you find a wife, the better. You should not have waited so long,” his aunt chided him.

  Surim felt the restrictions of his position close in on him. Usually he didn’t mind the challenges of leadership. But the pressure from his ministers, and now family, were daunting. He understood the need for an heir to insure a smooth transition of power when he died. But he didn’t like the constant pressure to find a woman right away.

  As he settled in the limousine he watched Melissa. She was a beautiful woman. Good things came in small packages—wasn’t that an old English saying? Her eyes sparkled as she listened to Hamid. Nadia remained close, seeming a bit listless. Alaya sat next to him.

  “Did you have a good time?” he asked.

  “She’s very old, isn’t she?” Alaya said.

  “No. But she is very sad because of your mother’s death. Being around you and the others will help her get her energy back and then you won’t think she’s so old.”

  “I wish Melissa would stay forever. Can’t you make her?”

  Surim shook his head. “I can’t force her to remain. But I will do my best to see if she can stay with us until you and the others are all grown up.”

  “I should like that!”

  So would I, Surim thought, a bit startled at the knowledge. He looked at Melissa again, wanting her to smile at him as she did so easily for Hamid.

  When they reached the house, Surim asked Melissa to remain while the children ran up to the nursery.

  “Dinner will not be private and I wish to discuss your remaining here for the foreseeable future,” he said. He led the way to the living room, shutting the doors behind them. “Do sit down,” he invited, waiting for her to sit on the sofa before joining her. The fragrance of her perfume filled the air. Light and sweet. Not a bit cloying like Delleah’s was sometimes.

  “I can’t stay beyond a few weeks,” she said.

  “So tell me the stumbling points and I’ll see what I can address.”

  She remained silent, thinking. Her eyes roamed around the room, settling nowhere, and not looking at him.

  “You like the children,” he said to break the silence.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it me you have a problem with?”

  She shook her head. Then hesitated. “No, no problem I can’t deal with.”

  Ah, there was something. His curiosity rose. “And that would be?”

  “Nothing I can’t deal with. I guess I just need time to think about staying. You’re getting married; don’t you think your future wife should have some say in who watches the children? Especially when you have your own children. She may not wish me to be part of your household.”

  “That won’t be any time soon. If you prefer, we can arrange a six-month period.”

  “What if I don’t suit?” she asked.

  “I can’t imagine that. But either party has the right to terminate before six months. And either way, I’ll give you a severance package equal to six months’ pay, to give you time to find another position that suits you.”

  “That’s more generous than I need,” she protested.

  “But what I propose.”

  “Let me think about it.” She rose and headed for the stairs, pausing at the doorway to look back at him. “I appreciate the offer. I’m just not sure I can do it.” And she was absolutely certain she couldn’t tell him the reason.

  As Melissa went upstairs she admitted her attraction to Surim was growing stronger daily. She had no business even holding out hope she’d remain. Her best plan would be to stay another week, then get back to England where she’d be safe.

  Maybe if she could focus on the children and virtually ignore Surim, she’d have a chance. Just because he set her heart racing every time she saw him
was no reason to let him occupy her every waking moment.

  He was seeking a wife. Melissa hoped he would find someone special. He deserved a wife who loved him, who wanted to make his life easier, and share the ups and downs. She wished he’d look her way. Not that she stood a chance. She wasn’t even from Qu’ Arim, and she could just imagine what people would think of their leader marrying a foreigner. For a split second, however, she remembered another leader who had given up a throne for the woman he loved. Love was the difference.

  Melissa took a few moments to freshen up, then headed for the nursery. Tonight was dinner with Surim in the main dining room. Only Alaya and Hamid were participating. Nadia was too young. Annis would see she got her dinner as usual.

  “Ready?” she asked when she arrived.

  “Do we have to?” Alaya asked. “Uncle Surim will want us to have perfect manners and I want to eat and then play.”

  “Me, too,” Hamid piped up.

  “We can play another evening. Tonight we are dining with your uncle.”

  The long table in the dining room had been set. Melissa was pleased to note everyone was clustered near the head, rather than spaced out. It wasn’t going to be a cozy dinner, but at least she would be near the children and Surim. No shouting needed.

  “Remember all I taught you?” Melissa asked as she and the children went to the seats on either side of the table.

  “Yes, sit quietly. Speak when spoken to,” Alaya said.

  “Use our napkins!” Hamid shouted, then laughed.

  Melissa relaxed. She hoped the meal would be enjoyable and not stressful. She planned to do her best to make it so.

  The conversation centered on the afternoon’s visit to the children’s grandmother. Melissa was pleased with the way Alaya and Hamid were behaving.

  The entire meal went much better than breakfast a few days earlier had gone. Still, Melissa was tired from the stress by the time the children were excused. She rose to take them upstairs, but Surim shook his head.

  “They know the way; they’ve explored the house on many occasions. Annis will put them to bed. Stay.”

  Alaya gave Melissa a hug and then Hamid, not to be outdone, came round the table to give her a hug.

  “Will you read me a story before I go to sleep?” he asked.

  “I’ll be up in a little while. If you fall asleep before I get there, I’ll read you two tomorrow, how’s that?” Melissa asked, tousling the boy’s hair. She was coming to love these precious children.

  “I want a story, too,” Alaya said, leaning against Melissa.

  “Same deal. Now bid your uncle good night and scoot upstairs.”

  Hamid approached Surim slowly. When Surim pushed back his chair and beckoned, Hamid went to give him a hug. Alaya followed.

  “Good night,” they called and raced from the room.

  Surim looked at Melissa. “Pass or fail?” he asked.

  She laughed. “This wasn’t a test. It was a family dinner. And I think it went well, but what I think doesn’t matter as much as what you think.”

  “Surprisingly, I enjoyed it,” he said.

  “Why the surprise? They’re super children.”

  “It is not the custom in my family to have children at the meals until they are almost adults.”

  “Who made that rule?” Melissa asked before she thought. “Oops, of course your customs are important, but it is nice to have the children share in family activities. How do you grow close if you don’t?”

  “Shall we have coffee in the salon? These chairs are not made for endless hours.” Surim rose and escorted Melissa to the informal salon. The French doors were opened to the gardens. Faint illumination came from the lighting outside. The lamps had been lit in the salon.

  She sat on the sofa and watched as he paced to the doors and paused.

  “One reason my father sent me to school in England was to expand my knowledge of other societies. He had gone to school in France. His brother in Italy. So it was England’s turn.”

  Melissa watched him. Where was this leading?

  Surim turned and looked at her. “But boarding school is different from family life. I went home a few times with Max, who enjoyed a very different family life from my own.”

  Melissa’s own family had been comprised of only her mother and herself after her father’s death. They’d done many things together, from sharing meals and shopping trips to planning holidays together. All memories Melissa would cherish forever.

  “The upshot is I’m not familiar with the English way of doing things.”

  “And you’re not sure you want that for the children?”

  “Actually, I think it might be a good way to make them initially feel safe and secure. I know Mara and Anwar spent a lot of time with the children. They loved living in England.”

  But you aren’t sure how to go on, Melissa surmised. “So you do what English families do: have meals together, spend time in the evenings doing things as a family. Which usually means activities that can include the youngest child. Don’t relegate them solely to the nursery.”

  Surim looked around the salon. “I will have the room made childproof.”

  “Or at least put the most valuable items away for a while. Children need to learn boundaries.”

  “I want them to feel free to roam everywhere. I didn’t have that freedom when I was younger. I remember coming home at seventeen, suddenly in charge of the house. There were actually rooms I had never been inside.”

  Melissa was astonished. More so that he was revealing such personal items to her. What put him in such a revealing mood?

  “Excellency, there is a phone call for you.” One of the servants stood at the doorway, holding a portable phone.

  “I’m busy,” Surim said shortly.

  “I wouldn’t intrude except it is Madame ibn Horock and you are usually available for her.”

  “Tante Tazil,” Surim said and crossed the room. “Excuse me a moment, Melissa; I do take her calls.”

  Melissa didn’t know whether to leave or remain, but when he took the phone and stepped into the foyer she remained where she was. In only moments another man entered carrying a large tray with fragrant coffee and some small cakes. He placed the tray on the coffee table and said something to her in Arabic.

  “Do you speak French?” she asked.

  He replied in that language and indicated he would bring anything else needed.

  “This looks perfect, thank you,” she said and leaned forward to pour the coffee into the delicate cups. They were lovely, and seemed too delicate for Surim’s strong hands.

  Surim strode back into the room a few moments later. He sat on the chair near the sofa and Melissa handed him a cup of coffee.

  “You take it black,” she said.

  “You noticed?”

  “At your aunt’s. Is she all right? Seeing the children wasn’t too much for her, was it?” she asked.

  “She is fine. In fact, she feels she’s getting back to normal. That call was to arrange a dinner for me to meet a friend of Mara’s Tante Tazil is convinced would make the perfect wife.”

  “How nice,” Melissa said, taking a sip of her coffee and not looking at the man. She wished he had not taken the call, or at least not shared it with her. What would it be like to marry Surim? To live forever in this lovely home by the Persian Gulf?

  The thoughts brought a flood of heat to her cheeks and she firmly pushed the idea away. There was no possibility he’d look at her.

  Besides, if there wasn’t a strong love bond in a marriage, she didn’t want it. She’d thought she’d loved Paul, but now that she had had time to look back she realized she’d been in love with the idea of being in love. Paul had been dynamic and exciting and for a few brief months she’d felt like Cinderella at the ball. But there had been no lasting ties forged. Paul was about good times and fast living. She liked that, but she also liked evenings at home, doing little but relaxing. Paul had found those stifling.

  She al
so put a high regard on fidelity, which Paul discounted as old-fashioned and out of vogue. Would he have felt the same if she’d been the one cheating? Probably, because he really hadn’t loved her. He hadn’t cared enough.

  “You’re very quiet,” Surim said.

  She looked up into his dark eyes, her heart catching. “I was just thinking about marriage, and how differently we view it.”

  “The western view is based on love,” he said. “Yet your divorce rate is high, and, from what I saw when I lived there, not every union has an abundance of love.”

  “You’re right. But for those who do, it’s a special tie. My mother and father loved each other. She was a widow for twenty years before marrying Max’s father last spring. She adores him and he her. I’m glad she didn’t settle.”

  “Do you see an arranged marriage as settling?” Surim asked.

  “No, I think that’s even worse. What if you two don’t suit? Will you have enough time in the courtship to get to know someone? Know whether or not you’ll tolerate each other enough to live together for fifty or more years?” Melissa suddenly realized what she was saying—and to whom.

  “Not that it’s any of my business,” she quickly added.

  He smiled at her. “The interesting thing about you, Melissa, is that you don’t treat me any differently than I imagine you treat your friends at home.”

  “We’re hardly friends,” she said, feeling uncomfortable.

  “Maybe we could be,” he suggested.

  “I’m here for the children.” And any overture of friendship would only go to making her fantasies more real. She needed to nip that attraction in the bud. If she wanted to succeed, she needed to remember the wide gulf between his position and hers. She had even less in common with him than she had with Paul.

  But as she’d realized earlier, her growing feelings for Surim were stronger than anything she’d ever felt before. And where did that leave her?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  OVER the next week Melissa and the children settled into a comfortable routine. They did Arabic lessons in the morning with Annis, and some catch-up lessons in English. They played outside in the afternoons. Twice it rained, so they spent time exploring the large house that was their new home.