The Nanny and the Sheikh

by Barbara McMahon

  He had some of the men on the boat connect to the wire bed and haul it up. Dozens of oysters lay on the huge tray, water streaming off them as they were pulled from the depths. Claude reached over and took one, opening it and moving the soft foot aside. A small pearl gleamed in the sunshine.

  “Too small to harvest, but doing well,” he said, showing it to Melissa and Surim.

  “How long before it is big enough to harvest?” she asked as he carefully replaced it on the big metal device and signaled the winch man to lower it back to the sea.

  “A couple of years, probably. We have different sections of the seafloor marked for different durations. It takes a long time to make a truly beautiful pearl. We make sure no diseases sweep through, or predators. We have a continuous rotation of oysters; some are just planted, others are a year or two old and some are ready for harvesting come summer.”

  Surim suggested Claude consider giving tours. He suspected there would be many visitors as excited about the process as Melissa.

  “Am I that transparent?” she asked, laughing. “I love every bit of information I’ve learned. Surim said there might be pearls to see—already harvested ones, I guess I mean.”

  “Indeed. In our showroom we have a large selection, some already made into jewelry, others loose to be chosen by discriminating buyers for their own particular designs.”

  The showroom was at the far end of the long building they’d parked beside.

  Surim took her hand when helping her from the boat and seemed to forget he held it as they walked to the display area.

  Melissa had no such luck forgetting. She was acutely aware of every inch of his palm against hers, of his strong fingers wrapped around her. Her arm actually seemed to tingle as they walked up the graveled path, listening to Claude explaining how he would have to change things to handle tours. Surim offered the incentive of additional buyers at the showroom. Sales meant a lot to the pearl farmer.

  The showroom was elegant with thick carpeting beneath her feet and display cases and tables scattered around the large room. One wall had rows of necklaces and bracelets. Another had brooches, earrings and dinner rings.

  The tables held corrugated trays with rows of loose pearls, sorted by size and color.

  “This is amazing,” Melissa said, transfixed by the displays.

  Surim released her hand, placing it at the small of her back and urging her inside. “Wander around and see what you like. I’ll talk with Claude. Take your time.”

  Melissa was fascinated by the wide variety of colors and sizes. One of the women at a table was sorting. She glanced up and smiled, saying something.

  “I don’t speak Arabic; do you speak French?” Melissa asked in that language.

  The woman did. Melissa asked her what she was doing and was soon involved in learning how pearls were sorted, what made a gem-quality pearl and some of the ancient folklore about pearls.

  When Melissa looked up some time later, Claude had left and Surim was leaning against the wall near the door, watching her.

  “Am I taking too long?” Melissa asked, realizing how long she’d been talking with the woman.

  “Not at all. I’m making mental notes about what tourists find interesting. I forget that not everyone would know about the pearl industry. And how enthralling it could be to visitors.”

  She smiled uncertainly.

  “Did you see any you liked?”

  “They are all lovely.” She began to walk around the perimeter, studying the jewelry on display. Surim watched for signs of avarice, but saw none. She seemed to enjoy the pearls for their beauty, not to own them.

  She finished her tour and spoke again to the woman sorting. Then she rejoined him.

  “I’m ready to leave if you are.”

  “I thought you might buy something.”

  “Not today.”

  “Maybe I should buy you something,” he suggested. Pearls against her skin would be beautiful.

  “No, thank you,” she said primly.

  “A memento of our day together, nothing else.”

  “I don’t think so,” she said, heading for the door.

  He caught her arm, stopping her.

  “I can afford them, Melissa. Take them as a gift.”

  “I don’t want you buying me pearls, Surim, and I’m not sure I want to splurge for them myself. Honestly, where would I wear pearls?”

  “How about tonight? You’re going to a formal reception tonight.” His fingers registered the softness of her skin. She would feel like that all over, he knew. Before he got sidetracked, he let her go.

  “I’ll manage with the necklace I already have. It goes perfectly with the new dress.”

  Surim merely nodded. “Time to leave, I think.” He conversed with the woman at the table in Arabic, who looked at Melissa and then at Surim and smiled. Melissa smiled back.

  “What did you tell her?” she asked as they stepped out of the showroom.

  “I thanked her for letting us see the lovely pearls.”

  When they left the pearl farm, Surim asked if she wished to see another.

  “Not today. This one was perfect. I need time to absorb all the facts I’ve learned. Weren’t they beautiful?”

  He glanced at her again as he turned onto the main highway. “They are beautiful, made more so by the women who wear them.”

  “Tell me how long you’ve known M. de Loache. You sound like longtime friends, though he’s a lot older, isn’t he?”

  “I’ve known Claude for many years. When I first assumed the leadership of the country, he was one of the first men to offer help however he could provide it. I would return the favor now, in increasing his business through tourism.”

  “Tell me about the early days. It couldn’t have been easy to be a teenager taking on the leadership of an entire country. You hadn’t even finished school, had you?”

  Surim was silent, remembering how difficult it had been. He had not been groomed from infancy for the role, which would have made more sense. His father had not expected to die young and had felt there was time enough later to train his son. In the meantime, with factions warring within the country, he’d had other matters to attend to.

  “It was difficult to deal with,” was all Surim said.

  “Did you ever finish school?” she asked.

  “Did you think I was a dropout?”

  She grinned. “Hardly, with your knowledge. But how did you go to school and run a country?”

  “In the first place, most of the actual running of the country in the early days was done by the ministers. My father had chosen them well. They were good men; several remain in their positions even today. I was more a titular figurehead. So I had tutors galore. I finished basic education and then continued until I earned the equivalent of a college degree.”

  “Through tutors?” she asked.

  “I was privileged enough to have professors from the university prepare a curriculum for me that I could follow from home. They would lecture, exam, and grade based on that.”

  “But no interaction with other students?”

  “Very limited. When I wasn’t studying calculus or world history, I was learning how to negotiate peace settlements between the warring factions in this country, and how to expand our national revenue through oil exports. There wasn’t time to hang out with other students.”

  “Sounds lonely,” she murmured.

  He shrugged. “It was the way it was.”

  Surim didn’t think often of those days. He hadn’t had much choice and had gone along with the way things had turned out. He could imagine how Melissa would have handled things. She’d have found him a home, insisted he have time to grow at a normal pace and not be plunged into world affairs at the age of seventeen.

  He, however, considered himself lucky the men his father had worked with had been loyal. There could have been anarchy at the time and that would have been disastrous for Qu’ Arim.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SURIM drove t
o a restaurant he sometimes visited situated literally on the water. It was a floating facility anchored a short boat ride from the shore. The seafood was excellent and the ambience he knew would appeal to Melissa. She had such a sensuous feel for things. He knew she loved the flowers in the garden, not only their look and scents, but also touch. He’d seen her on more than one occasion plucking a flower and brushing it against her cheeks.

  The way she pointed things out to the children in the garden, or at the shore, or even yesterday in the souks, supported her love for the natural world and her fascination with life in general.

  When he reached the parking lot, she looked around with interest.

  “Are we taking another boat ride?” she asked.

  “To the restaurant there.” He pointed to the floating structure several hundred yards from shore. From the smile that instantly appeared, he knew she approved.

  “This is fantastic,” she said a short time later when they were seated at one of the open windows and had placed their orders. The structure bobbed gently on the surface of the sea. The air circulating was fresh and warm. The smells coming from the kitchen were mouthwatering.

  “I thought you’d like it,” he murmured, watching her as she took in the quiet ambience of the place.

  She smiled at him, just like the smiles she gave to Hamid and Alaya. “Surim, I have to say I’m having the time of my life today. Thank you for showing me part of your country. It’s amazing.”

  “I’m happy to do it.”

  She let her smile fade slightly. “I feel guilty taking time away from your courting, though.”

  He was startled. “I assure you I have things well in hand.” He had seen Yasine several times, and, while she sometimes bored him, he knew she’d make a suitable wife. In due time, he’d introduce her to the children and see the mutual reaction. If it went well, perhaps he’d propose within the month. But there was no rush.

  Today was for himself and Melissa. It had been a long time since he’d seen Qu’ Arim with fresh eyes and he was enjoying the novelty.

  “Tell me about Eton. Did you ever find anything to like about England?”

  “Initially, I did not. But I grew to enjoy my time in England.”

  “Because of Max and other friends, I bet. Didn’t you miss your home?”

  Surim nodded once. He had missed Qu’ Arim. He had disliked the cold, wet climate of England. He had missed the familiar palm trees and native flowers. And swimming in the Gulf. He had loved his summers at home. He and Mara had been the best of friends. But he had also understood duty. His family’s duty had been set long before he’d been born.

  The waiter brought their lunch. Melissa tasted the fish in a light sauce and pronounced it perfect.

  “It almost melts in my mouth, it’s so delicate,” she said.

  “I am pleased you are pleased,” he said.

  She laughed. “Are you always so formal? Even around the children you don’t seem relaxed and into playing with them. Loosen up a bit, and remember back when you were a child. I bet you were a terror. I’ve heard some of the stories of Max at Eton; could you have been far behind?”

  Surim ate his fish, refusing to reminisce about the wilder days of his youth. They had vanished when a light plane had crashed, killing his father and mother. He could never recapture them.

  “This is hardly the setting to be frivolous,” he said, glancing around.

  She followed suit and sobered up. “Of course, Excellency. I would expect you only to forget your role in private.”

  She ate her meal, gazing out over the water and virtually ignoring him. Surim felt annoyed that he’d ruined what had been a fun time. She had withdrawn and was totally polite if he asked her anything. But her spontaneity had vanished.

  Melissa’s enjoyment had dimmed with his comment about not being frivolous. That was what she was; she could see it. But she loved to laugh and enjoy situations. Not be formal and polite and follow protocol all the time. Much as she might fancy capturing the love of the man, she wouldn’t wish to live her life like that. She embraced new experiences, always excited to learn more and see more.

  This restaurant was perfect. She had never eaten on a floating one before and wished she could come another time. She was charmed that Surim had sought such a special treat for her. After the pearl farm and lunch, Melissa was sure the day couldn’t get better. He hadn’t said anything about the afternoon, except to suggest they might go swimming. For a moment she imagined the two of them on that beautiful stretch of beach. She’d love to be free to swim, float and generally enjoy the outing without any cares. Would he still be considering his duty?

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked as he finished his meal.

  She looked embarrassed. She should have kept up the conversation, not gone off in some daydream.

  “Actually I was wondering if we were still going to the beach later. I haven’t had a proper swim myself since I’ve been here because I’m usually watching the children.”

  “We will go by the resort and then head for home. If we are very quiet, we can slip in, change and be gone before they know we’re there.”

  She’d suspected he’d been more carefree before the responsibilities of his office pressed down. This sounded like fun.

  “You’re on. You really think we can do that?”

  Surim smiled slyly. “I know a secret way into the house.”

  Melissa was enchanted. “A secret passage! Where is it?”

  “I cannot tell you; you’ll have to trust me.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. “I do.” She laughed, feeling lighthearted once again. And crashing head over heels for a man who put duty before all else. Was it her destiny to fall for unsuitable men?

  After they ate, Surim drove them to the resort site. “I like to check on it each day,” he said.

  The outside walls had been framed. The floor joists for the second and third stories were in place, ladders leaning against them to allow workers easy access. Only a handful of workers were there. It was Saturday, and she knew Qu’ Arim followed normal work weeks of Monday through Friday.

  “I can see the shape better now,” she said, looking from the car. “It’s going to be beautiful, isn’t it? I love the arched windows and the airy feeling of the high ceilings. Like at your house, right?”

  “Similar. We want to incorporate our distinctive architecture to enhance the visitors’ feeling of being in a different place than they normally go. We are extending the feeling to the entire layout, emphasizing the Arabian mystique and minimizing the western style that they see all over Europe.”

  “It will be fabulous.”

  “Max and his family will be here for the grand opening. You’ll have to join us all for the event,” Surim said.

  They walked to the restaurant. The outer walls with their soaring windows facing the Gulf were completed. Inside they were plastering and incorporating mosaic tiles on the floors and part way up the two side walls. The designs were geometric and quite intricate. Surim led her toward the back where the kitchen had been laid out. None of the appliances were yet in place, but electrical wiring had been pulled and plumbing put in.

  “It’ll be much like the one I saw in Mayfair. Are you following their design?” she asked.

  “It’s Max’s design that we’re following. Come, let’s see how far they have come on the lobby.”

  They explored for another half hour, remaining on the ground floor. Surim voted against their using ladders to see the upper levels. “Time enough when the stairs are in,” he said.

  Melissa complied, but she knew if he’d been on his own, without her, he would not have hesitated to climb up and see the progress. They walked out of the lobby and she looked around.

  “Even before the landscaping is put in, it’s gorgeous.” There were several palm trees that had been worked around. And the view of the blue water stretching out before them was enough to satisfy even the most demanding tourist. “This is
going to be a wonderful place for people to visit,” she said.

  “I hope so. It’s been a dream of mine for a long time. I’m glad to see it come to fruition. If you have seen enough, we’ll return home.”

  Home, a place to live and love. Melissa smiled and headed back for the car, knowing for however long she was to live in Qu’ Arim, his house was truly home.

  Surim drove the car to the back of the villa, into a multi-bay garage. He helped Melissa from the vehicle, and put one finger to his lips.

  “Shh, now,” he admonished.

  She almost laughed. She had never seen a playful side to the man before and found it enchanting.

  He took her hand and went to the side of the garage, peering around the edge of the building. Satisfied they were alone, he hurried across the stretch of lawn to the side of the house. Here he stayed close to the wall, slipping behind some shrubbery at one point. There was a small door.

  “It’s really a secret entrance,” she whispered.

  “Not so secret; the staff use it,” he said.

  “Don’t tell me that. To me it’s a secret way known only to a few. Where does it go?”

  “Into a hallway that goes between the servants’ quarters and the reception room. Come, quietly now. I hope we don’t run into the children exploring.”

  “You know they do that?”

  “Of course.” He eased open the door and slipped inside, tugging her behind him. The illumination was dim when the door closed behind them, but Surim knew where he was going. He walked quietly toward the front of the house, entering the reception room in only a moment.

  “Now’s the tricky part. Here’s the plan. We get to our rooms, change and meet back here in less than ten minutes. Can you do that?”

  Melissa stifled a giggle, her eyes bright with laughter. “Aye, sir, no problem, unless the kids are out and about.”

  “That’s why we have to be fast.”

  He eased the door to the main foyer open a crack and peeped through it.

  Melissa almost held her breath. Was there someone out there? Finally Surim flung the door wide open and began to walk quickly across to the stairs. She almost had to run to keep up with his longer stride.