GOVERNESS TO THE SHEIKH

by MARTIN, LAURA

  Malik began to protest, but she silenced him with a steely look.

  ‘Do it and be ready to act.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ the bandit shouted.

  Malik motioned for Wahid to take out his coin purse.

  ‘She’s English,’ Malik said. ‘I was telling her what you want.’

  Miss Talbot took the purse from Wahid, slipped a chain from her own neck and slowly started to ride towards the head bandit. Malik felt his entire body tense. He wanted to protect her, to sweep her up on to his horse and never let any harm come to her, but for the sake of his children he knew he couldn’t.

  ‘On foot,’ the bandit commanded.

  Malik reluctantly gave the order to Miss Talbot and watched as she slipped from her horse and proceeded on foot. He knew she must be nervous, but as she passed him there was only steely determination on her face.

  She reached the bandit and Malik adjusted his grip on his sword slightly so he’d be ready to attack at the earliest opportunity. To his left he saw Wahid do the same.

  Miss Talbot stopped just in front of the bandit, waiting for him to beckon her closer. As she came round the side of his horse the bandit leaned down and grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly and making her cry out in pain.

  ‘Pretty ladies should know better than to wander through the desert with such a paltry escort,’ he said.

  Malik saw her start to cringe away from the bandit, as if she were truly scared of him and what he might do to her. Then, just as the bandit tensed his arm to pull her back towards him she launched herself at him, taking him completely by surprise. Malik just had time to see her grab the dagger that was resting in the bandit’s belt and plunge it into his thigh. The bandit screamed, his horse rearing, and Miss Talbot stumbled backwards, her arms flailing as if trying to catch hold of something.

  Malik didn’t see any more. As the head bandit screamed Malik leapt into action, spurring his horse forward and thrusting his sword expertly at the two bandits to his right. One he slashed across the stomach, and the shriek of horror told him the man was completely out of action. The other bandit was a little faster. He’d seen what had happened to his comrade and raised his sword to mount a defence, but he was no match for Malik. The Sheikh pulled back and then lunged, catching the man across the wrist on his sword arm. With a wail of terror the bandit spun his horse around and fled.

  Malik surveyed the scene. To his left Wahid had injured two bandits, both men fleeing in different directions. The first man Malik had attacked had fallen from his horse and was looking pleadingly up at everyone, blood pumping from his wound. The leader was still there, but as Malik turned to face him their eyes locked and the bandit snarled, but turned his horse and fled after the rest of his men, the dagger still sticking out of his thigh.

  Malik quickly slid from his horse, plucked Hakim into his arms and hurried over to Miss Talbot. She was lying on the ground, not moving, and her face had an unnatural pallor to it. Tentatively Malik placed a hand on her chest and breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the pounding of her heart under the skin. Malik gently ran his hands over her head and found a large lump forming at the back of her skull.

  ‘Father?’ Ameera’s worried voice spurred Malik into action.

  ‘Miss Talbot has hit her head,’ he said, trying not to let the children hear the worry in his voice. ‘We need to get her back to the palace as quickly as possible.’

  In an ideal world Malik would scoop the unconscious governess into his arms and gallop at full speed back to the palace, but he had his children to think about. He only hoped a slight delay in getting Miss Talbot back wouldn’t affect her outcome.

  ‘Aahil and Ameera, I need you to be brave. Do you think you can ride back to the palace?’

  Both children continued to stare at their unconscious governess, but after a few seconds both nodded.

  ‘Hakim, I have to carry Miss Talbot with me, will you be all right riding with Wahid?’

  Malik looked down into his young son’s face and was proud to see the little boy rally. He was only four years old and already Malik could see Hakim putting someone else’s needs before his own.

  Quickly Malik passed his son up to Wahid, who held on to Hakim tightly. Effortlessly Malik draped Miss Talbot over the front of his horse and vaulted up behind her. He had never ridden with an unconscious person as cargo before and he took a second to ensure she was well balanced before urging his horse forward.

  ‘What about him?’ Wahid asked as they all looked at the injured bandit lying in the dust. His eyes were fluttering as he slipped in and out of consciousness.

  Normally Malik would have taken the injured man with them. It was no kind of end, dying in the unforgiving desert, no matter what his crime, but today they didn’t have time to figure out how to transport the man back if they were going to get Miss Talbot to the palace and the palace doctor as quickly as possible.

  ‘We will send out a troop of guards once we get back, but we cannot help him now. His fellow bandits might return for him. If not, the guards will bring him to the palace later.’

  Pushing the unpleasant fate of the bandit from his mind, Malik spurred his horse into a canter and checked to see the rest of the group was keeping up. In front of him Miss Talbot had not stirred and Malik found himself wondering if her brave act was to be her last.

  Chapter Seven

  Rachel tried to open her eyes but it was too much effort. Even the slightest movement sent flashes of red hot pain through her head. For a few moments she lay absolutely still, gathering her strength and resolve for another try.

  As she lay there she tried to recall what had happened and figure out why she was in so much pain. She wondered if she had fallen down the stairs at the school or been hit by an errant ball during their games session. Had she even been at school or was she back home for the holidays?

  Rachel shifted in the bed slightly. She was hot, so hot she could feel little beads of perspiration forming at the base of her neck. Gently someone dabbed at her skin with a cool cloth, and Rachel felt some momentary relief.

  This time she made a more concerted effort and her eyes flickered open. For a second the light blinded her, but she squinted for a few moments until the room came into focus.

  As she looked up at the whitewashed ceiling and became aware of the silky fabrics, the events of the last few weeks came flooding back. She was in Huria, not England; she was a governess to three beautiful and complex children, not a schoolgirl.

  ‘Can you hear me?’ The voice spoke softly, and with effort Rachel turned her head towards it.

  The Sheikh was sitting by her bed, looking down at her with concern. Rachel gave him a shaky smile and looked around the room. There was no one else there, which meant he must have been the one dabbing her skin so gently with the cool cloth.

  ‘How long?’ Rachel managed to croak. Her throat felt like she had swallowed a whole desert of sand.

  ‘You’ve been unconscious for nearly a day.’

  She struggled to clear the fog in her head as she began remembering snippets of what had happened to knock her unconscious. She could clearly picture the trip to the village and the mesmerising dancing girls, and then their hurried departure. With difficulty Rachel focused her mind on their return journey and slowly the events with the bandits came back to her.

  ‘The children,’ she gasped, trying to sit up far too fast. Her head spun and for a second her vision went grey.

  She felt a strong, cool hand on her shoulder, pressing her back into the bed.

  ‘The children are all fine,’ the Sheikh said. ‘Worried about you, but fine.’

  Rachel let herself relax a little, closing her eyes momentarily until she recovered from her sudden movement.

  ‘And you, Your Majesty?’ Rachel asked after a moment. She couldn’t recall how the
fight had gone after she’d plunged the dagger into the head bandit’s thigh, but the Sheikh and Wahid were outnumbered two to one and it must have been close, even if they did have superior training and swordsmanship.

  ‘I will live to fight another day,’ he said with a trace of humour in his voice. ‘Now, you must rest, Miss Talbot, get your strength back. I will send in the palace doctor and let him check you over.’

  ‘Please call me Rachel,’ Rachel said. It seemed absurd for him to be addressing her as Miss Talbot when they had been through so much together.

  ‘Rachel,’ the Sheikh said, as if trying it out on his tongue. With his hint of an accent her name sounded exotic, as if something alluring and exciting, not plain old Rachel from the south of England. ‘And you must call me Malik.’

  Rachel opened her eyes and looked at the Sheikh again. It seemed wrong to address him by anything other than his title, but she felt a thrill of pleasure at being able to use his name. Malik, it was strong and commanding, a name that suited him.

  ‘Now rest, Rachel, I will bring the children in to see you later.’

  Rachel watched his retreating form with a pang of regret. She wished she could call out, ask him to stay, but she knew that even with the recent subtle shift in their relationship she was in no position to ask a Sheikh to waste his day away sitting with her. She was amazed he had stayed with her whilst she was unconscious. He could just have easily asked one of the numerous palace servants to keep an eye on her and let the doctor know when she was awake.

  She kept remembering the tender way he’d dabbed her skin with the cool, damp cloth and couldn’t help but wonder if he felt something more than responsibility towards her. She shook her head, stopping abruptly as pain shot through her skull, but still the thought lingered. She wondered if he viewed her only as the governess to his children, someone he was responsible for the safety of, but nothing more, or if she hadn’t imagined the way he’d savoured her name on his tongue and the lingering look he’d given her before he’d left.

  She felt a thrill of anticipation travel through her body and allowed herself to languish in it before trying to dismiss it. Of course, even if he was interested in her as anything more than his children’s governess it didn’t matter. Rachel loved her job here, she loved Aahil and Ameera and little Hakim, and she wouldn’t jeopardise that for the sake of an attraction that couldn’t lead anywhere.

  Still, she couldn’t deny Malik was an attractive man. He was handsome, but he was more than that. It was his confidence, his self-assurance and his love for the country he ruled that transformed his attractive features into something more mesmerising.

  With a sigh Rachel sank further back into her pillows. She blamed the head injury; normally she wouldn’t be taken with such fits of fancy. It was almost as bad as the fairy tales she had mocked when she was younger. Rachel didn’t need a handsome prince to rescue her, her life was just fine as it was. She was carving out her own future.

  The doctor bustled into the room and Rachel was grateful for a distraction from her thoughts. Quickly he checked the bump on her head, her vision and what seemed like a hundred other things before declaring that she needed to take things slowly, but there should be no lasting damage.

  She must have slept, with fractured dreams in which Malik featured heavily. In one he was defending her from a whole army of bandits, slashing fiercely to protect her and her alone. Another was not quite so innocent and as Rachel woke with a start she felt every nerve in her body tingling with anticipation. Even though she was alone and no one would ever be able to guess what she’d been dreaming of she blushed.

  There was a quiet rap on the door and hurriedly Rachel tried to regain her composure.

  ‘Come in,’ she called.

  The door opened and Malik slipped into the room.

  ‘The children are eager to see you, but if you’re not up to it they’ll understand.’

  Rachel glanced at the door and could see three pairs of worried eyes peering in. Carefully she started to pull herself up in bed so she was sitting. Malik was immediately at her side, rearranging the pillows behind her so she could sit comfortably. As he did so his arm brushed against her shoulder and Rachel felt his touch linger for just a second. She knew she was being absurd, that he was just helping her sit up so she could reassure the children, but as he drew away their eyes met and Rachel was surprised to see the Sheikh give her a small smile. Normally he was so serious, so distant, but for a few moments he held her gaze and Rachel felt as though only the two of them existed.

  ‘Come, children,’ Malik said. ‘But be very careful.’

  The three of them slipped into the room and crept towards the bed, stopping when they were a few feet away.

  ‘It’s all right, you can come closer,’ Rachel said gently. ‘You won’t hurt me.’

  Hakim was the first to move. He softly climbed on to the bed and snuggled in against Rachel, burying his head in her chest. Ameera was next, she came and sat on Rachel’s other side and didn’t protest at all when Rachel slipped her arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer for a cuddle.

  Aahil stood awkwardly for a few moments, before Malik put a hand on his shoulder and guided his eldest son to the edge of the bed. Father and son perched side by side halfway down the bed.

  ‘Are you hurt, Miss Talbot?’ Hakim asked, his voice muffled, as he didn’t raise his head from her chest.

  ‘I’ve got a bit of a sore head, but nothing that won’t heal.’

  ‘You were so brave,’ Ameera said, looking up at her governess with a hint of awe in her eyes.

  Rachel looked at the little family surrounding her on the bed and realised the truth in the words she was about to say.

  ‘I know I’ve only been your governess for a short while, but I do care for you very much. When you care for someone you sometimes find bravery in yourself that you didn’t even realise you had.’

  Rachel thought back to when they’d been surrounded by the bandits, with the men demanding their money and valuables. She’d known they wouldn’t be allowed to walk free, unharmed, and she’d also known that she would give her life to protect the three young children in her care. So when the bandit had told her to approach she’d found courage she’d never known she had.

  ‘I was scared,’ Hakim admitted, still not raising his head.

  Rachel stroked his hair. ‘It’s all right to be scared in a situation like that. I was scared.’

  ‘Were you?’ Ameera asked. ‘You didn’t look scared.’

  ‘I was scared,’ Rachel said firmly, glancing at Aahil who had been sitting quietly the whole time. ‘In fact, I think it would be foolish not to be scared when there is so much danger.’

  Three little faces turned to their father to hear his opinion on this. Aahil in particular looked as though he really needed to know what his father was about to say.

  Malik cleared his throat. ‘Well, I think...’ He trailed off as his eyes met Rachel’s. A look of comprehension dawned on his face as he quickly glanced from her to Aahil. Addressing all three of his children, he started again.

  ‘Sometimes a little bit of fear can be a good thing,’ he confirmed. ‘It focuses the mind and it is a sensible reaction to something that is dangerous or threatening.’

  Aahil bit his lip, but still didn’t say anything.

  ‘I was afraid,’ Malik continued. ‘I was afraid that the bandits might hurt you children because you are the most precious things in the world to me.’

  Rachel felt the tears well up in her eyes and hastily blinked them away. She could see by the quiet, intent way all three children were looking at Malik that they had never heard him tell them how important they were to him.

  ‘There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you felt scared,’ Malik reiterated. ‘I would be more worried if you didn’t feel scared. You need to be able to rec
ognise danger in this world and that is all fear is, your body’s way of telling you something is dangerous.’

  Aahil seemed to be digesting his father’s words. Malik glanced at Rachel and she gave him a smile, pleased that he’d recognised what his eldest son had needed to hear. The boy was only eight, but he held himself to almost impossible standards. He also worshipped his father, so if Malik said it was fine to be scared, then he would believe it.

  ‘Now we must let Miss Talbot rest,’ Malik said firmly.

  Obediently Ameera and Aahil stood, but Hakim didn’t move.

  ‘I’ll still be here later,’ Rachel said gently.

  ‘You’re not going to leave us?’

  Rachel gently tilted Hakim’s chin up and looked him in the eye. ‘I’m not going to leave you. It takes a bit more than a few bandits to scare me away.’

  Hakim threw his arms around her neck and hugged her, and although the movement made her head pound, Rachel sat up, motioned for the other two children to join them and held all three tightly to show them she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Chapter Eight

  Malik paced nervously up and down. He felt like a young boy again, not a confident and powerful Sheikh of a beautiful desert kingdom.

  He’d had a strange couple of days. It had been two days since the attack by the bandits and a day since Rachel had woken up. His children had been rather quiet and he’d felt an odd sense of listlessness, as if he was in limbo. Malik had tried to get on with things as normal, meeting chieftains and briefing guards on the bandit situation, but he’d been oddly distracted, his mind often wandering to the small bedroom where Rachel was recovering from her injury.

  Malik didn’t like the feeling of not being in charge, so this evening he’d decided to take his power back and had invited Rachel to join him for a stroll in one of the palace gardens. She had been out of bed that afternoon and he’d heard her comment that she wanted fresh air.

  So here he was, inexplicably nervous, clutching a beautiful orchid in one hand, trying to tell himself he was just being a good employer, nothing more.