The Sheikh Surgeon's Baby

by Meredith Webber

  ‘Boys can play with anything they like,’ Mel replied gently, hearing the pain and loneliness of the child he’d been behind the simple explanation. ‘And this boy will, too, because we’re going to fix his heart,’ she added, to get them back on track. Feeling sorry for this man was a sure way to disaster. She was already doomed to feel attraction—but sympathy? Empathy?

  Way too dangerous!

  ‘For now we need to keep an eye on his oxygen saturation. Because of the hole in the ventricular wall, the oxygen-rich blood from his lungs is mixing with the oxygen-depleted blood from his body, which means the blood going into the aorta isn’t as oxygen-rich as it should be.’

  She glanced across at him and smiled.

  ‘Teaching my grandmother to suck eggs, aren’t I?’ she said.

  ‘Your grandmother to what?’

  ‘It’s an old expression—telling you things you already know.’

  He returned her smile—with interest apparently because it made her forget all the reasons she didn’t want to be attracted to Arun again.

  Although, now he knew about the pregnancy…

  Was she mad?

  Of course they couldn’t continue their affair. It would complicate matters far too much.

  And, no doubt, start the dreams again—dreams where he held her in his arms, and brought such sensual joy to her body…

  ‘I thought we were sensibly discussing the baby’s case,’ he said quietly, and she looked across at him and saw a smirk that suggested he’d read her momentary distraction with ease.

  ‘We are!’ she protested, but it was a feeble effort. Somehow she had to shut away all memory of the past and concentrate on the present—now. ‘I was saying how I needn’t explain it all to you.’

  ‘Ah, but you do, because although I know what is wrong and what must happen, hearing you explain will help me tell Tia.’

  Mel understood and continued to run through the regimen the baby would need, with tube feedings for maximum nutrition, ACE inhibitors to dilate the blood vessels and make it easier for the heart to pump blood through the body, digoxin to strengthen the heart muscle, diuretics to help the kidneys remove excess fluid.

  ‘So, we organise all of this now, and have nurses rostered on to keep an eye on him at all times,’ Arun said. ‘What about a doctor? Do you want a registrar to keep an eye on him? We could fly in a paediatric registrar.’

  ‘You could? From where? Do you pluck them out of the air?’

  She was teasing him, Arun knew, and for a moment he wondered if they could get back to where they’d been, not necessarily lovers again but two adults enjoying each other’s company, talking and laughing easily, discussing every subject under the sun.

  Except the future, which had been off limits, for they’d agreed that what they’d both wanted had been a brief affair. And if, in retrospect, it had seemed much more than that…

  He forced his mind back to practicalities, at the same time registering that very soon the future would have to be discussed.

  The baby’s future—his baby’s future…

  ‘As I said, Kam and I have been working on changes at the hospital. The maternity ward came first, but paediatrics was to come next. We have been interviewing applicants for the positions available—a paediatrician and three paediatric registrars—and I am sure at least one of those we’ve short-listed could come immediately.’

  ‘That would be great.’ She sounded genuinely pleased so he wouldn’t mention that money might have to change hands to achieve this as quickly as possible. Mention of money—or of what money could provide for her—had upset her earlier, despite his experience of women suggesting they were far more practical about gifts or payments for services than men were.

  But this woman was unlike any woman he’d ever known—the dreams that had cursed his nights for the past four months had been enough to tell him that. And though, whenever he’d considered following up on their brief affair—maybe flying to Australia to see her—he’d ruthlessly dismissed the thought as a passing fancy, he’d known the attraction went deep.

  Now she was here.

  Carrying his child…

  And about as friendly as a hungry barracuda!

  ‘I will get moving on the medications first. You will fit the feeding tube? Should he be sedated for that?’

  ‘A mild sedative.’ She picked up a pen and turned over one of the printouts to write a list of what she’d need on the back of it, but as she pushed it across the table to him, their fingers touched. She drew her hand back as though she’d been burned and Arun knew she’d felt the searing awareness that had shot through his own blood at the touch.

  ‘No,’ she said, answering a question he hadn’t asked. ‘Later, when we have this baby stable, that’s when we’ll talk.’

  He took the list and guided her back to Tia’s room, leaving her there with the two women and the baby while he went to organise first the equipment and drugs and then another doctor so Melissa wouldn’t have to spend all her time at the hospital.

  Although he suspected she was conscientious enough to want to be here a lot of the time.

  Which meant that, apart from the promised talk, he’d see precious little of her, as all her spare time would, naturally, be spent with Jenny, preparing for the wedding, doing girl things…

  By the time he returned to Tia’s room, it was filled with relatives. At least the hospital had been built with local customs in mind so the rooms were big enough for a mass of family to squeeze in, but to intubate a fragile baby with such chaos all around?

  ‘I know I said it would be good for the baby to stay with Tia,’ Melissa said, when he’d battled through the crowds to the side of the crib where she was fending off women who wanted to hold the newborn, ‘but this is impossible, and he really needs to be monitored. An ICU room perhaps, but one somewhere not too far away so Tia can visit and sit with him, just her and maybe Miriam, not the whole family.’

  ‘It will be hard to explain that to them,’ Arun said, ‘but, yes, you’re right. We need to move him. Come.’

  He handed the equipment he’d brought with him to Zaffra and pushed the crib from the room, calling back to Tia that he would come back and see her very soon.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘IS IT always like that in your hospital?’ Mel asked, as she once again followed Arun along a wide corridor.

  ‘The family thing?’ he asked, glancing back over his shoulder and smiling at her. ‘Pretty much. It’s harder to handle at night when the lights are dimmed because family members tend to sleep on the floor of the hospital room and you can trip over them if you’re not careful.’

  They reached a double door, which Arun pushed open with one shoulder, and Mel followed him into a very modern ICU, the nurses at the central desk watching monitors, while other nurses could be seen through the windows that gave clear views into the patient rooms.

  ‘This first room is empty and there’s a procedure room beside it. We’ll take him in there first to fit the feeding tube and a port for drugs, then hook him up to the monitors in the room.’

  He led her into a small but well-equipped procedure room, then, to Mel’s surprise, he swept off his shirt then stripped off his jeans.

  ‘I should have changed earlier but there didn’t seem to be time,’ he said, no doubt reading surprise in her eyes.

  But he’d read wrongly this time, for she was mesmerised not by him changing clothes but by the sight of his strongly muscled chest, his skin gleaming with good health, dark against the stark white underwear he wore.

  Mesmerised by memories…

  The desire she’d battled to keep at bay since first they’d met again erupted in her body, and it was only as he turned towards the sink to scrub that she remembered where she was, and what she was supposed to be doing.

  She crossed the room to scrub beside him, then realised she, too, must smell of horse. He’d pulled a scrub suit from a cupboard by the sink—there’d be another one there. But though at t
imes throughout her training she’d often shared a changing room with men, she was suddenly shy at the thought of disrobing in front of Arun.

  Maybe he wouldn’t look…

  If she did it quickly…

  Was she mad? There was a baby here in need of help—that was the issue, not her, or Arun, or modesty, or anything else.

  She found a scrub suit, stripped off her loose tunic and trousers and pulled on the suit before joining him at the sink, using the foot pedal to get water, scrubbing her hands and arms, the motions automatic as she’d done it so often before.

  ‘Have you been well in your pregnancy?’ he asked, and Mel turned to stare at her companion. It seemed the most unlikely of questions, but she could read no hidden message on his face.

  ‘Fighting fit,’ she told him, rinsing off the soap and bumping the hot air dryer with her shoulder to set it going.

  He was pulling on a glove from the dispenser on the wall, taking two from the box next to it—mediums—and handing them to her.

  ‘That’s good,’ he said, and once again Mel searched his face, certain this weird conversation must have a hidden agenda.

  But all she saw was the strong-planed features that had first attracted her, the slightly hooked nose that had suggested arrogance though he’d never directed it at her, the unusual green eyes, pale and beautiful, and the lush lips whose magical powers had driven her body to distraction.

  She crossed back to tend the baby, looking first at what Zaffra had laid out on the treatment table, taking the baby’s chart to check his weight so she could calibrate the strength of the drugs she would give him, measuring him so she knew how long to make his feeding tube, thinking all the time of the problems that could arise and how to circumvent them if she could.

  They worked well together, Arun decided as he held the sedated baby while Melissa inserted the feeding tube and taped it into place. She’d already slid a cannula into a vein on the back of one tiny hand and taped it into place, splinting the little arm so the access port couldn’t be accidentally dislodged.

  Now, as Zaffra settled him back on the warmed mattress of the crib, Melissa bent over the table, writing furiously, doing sums and checking them, working out dosages and feeding formulas, Arun guessed, although she was too absorbed in her work to explain.

  So absorbed she probably didn’t realise she was chewing slightly on her bottom lip as she worked.

  He’d chewed gently on that lip, he remembered. It had been late one night, and they’d attended lectures during the day but had skipped the formal dinner, going off instead to a little waterside restaurant he’d heard was good. They’d walked back along the beach towards the hotel, rounding an outcrop of rocks and coming to a smaller cove, so deserted, so enticing, they’d stripped off and swum.

  That had been when he’d nibbled on her lip. Nibbled on it as he’d held her close, making love in the water…

  Making love in the water!

  Unprotected!

  He’d half remembered earlier—an instance of stupidity—but hadn’t placed it until now. Although it hadn’t seemed like stupidity at the time.

  Madness perhaps, but not stupidity.

  And now?

  So the baby could be his and she hadn’t told him!

  For four months she hadn’t told him.

  He couldn’t think about it right now, not with Melissa standing there, looking at him as if expecting some reply.

  Had she asked a question?

  About the baby?

  It had to be.

  ‘He’s left us for another planet,’ Mel said to Zaffra. ‘So maybe you can tell me what formula you have in the maternity ward for newborn babies.’

  ‘There are many—come and see,’ Zaffra suggested.

  Mel glanced at Arun, who was looking slightly less thunderous than he had a little earlier, though still angry enough to bite if teased.

  ‘Will you hook him up to the monitors while I check out the formulas?’ she asked.

  He frowned at her so fiercely she wondered if it had sounded like an order instead of a request, but in the end he nodded abruptly then leant over the crib, moving it towards the wall where the monitors stood.

  Two hours later they had the baby hooked up to monitors, nurses rostered to be with him at all times, feeding and medication regimens in place, and the little boy as safe and stable as they could make him.

  ‘Come, I will take you back to Jenny’s house,’ Arun said, as Mel leant over the crib for the hundredth time, checking and rechecking, worrying and wondering. Had she done all she could? Would he be all right? Should she—?

  ‘I don’t know if I should leave him,’ she responded worriedly. ‘Not for any length of time. Jenny spoke of a party tonight—I should go to that, she’d be disappointed if I didn’t, but to leave him now, just like that…’

  Arun frowned at her

  ‘You’re tired—probably jet-lagged. You need to rest for a short time at least or you’ll be little use to the baby.’

  And as he said it, exhaustion hit her like a bus, her limbs suddenly too heavy to move. But she had to find the strength to argue.

  ‘You’re right, but what if the baby needs me? If something goes wrong?’

  The look on Arun’s face softened.

  ‘You would not trust a cardiologist to watch over him?’ he teased, and it must have been the tiredness that made her feel warmed and cherished by his tone. But then the meaning of his words sank in.

  ‘You’ll stay?’ She stared at him and imagined she saw a shadow cross his face.

  ‘You sound surprised,’ he said, the coolness back in his voice suggesting the shadow had been hurt—a suggestion made fact when he continued. ‘Do you think I care less for my nephew and my sister’s peace of mind than you, a stranger, would?’

  Mel shook her head and reached out to touch his scrub-suit-clad arm.

  ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. I am tired, also desperately in need of a bath and change of clothes and even some food if that’s possible. Do you have on-call rooms where I can rest? Is there somewhere I can grab a sandwich?’

  A stream of words she didn’t understand greeted her questions, but the angry shaking of Arun’s head told her it was probably just as well she didn’t understand.

  ‘On-call rooms? Grab a sandwich? Do you think we treat our guests so poorly?’

  Then his voice softened and he smiled and lifted his hand to touch her cheek.

  ‘Although we have treated you poorly, have we not, Melissa? Rushing you to the house to help the baby, bringing you here and feeding you nothing more than a pastry.’

  Arun looked at her, at the wild red-gold curls escaping the theatre cap she’d pulled on earlier, at the pale, pale skin and grey-blue shadows beneath her eyes.

  ‘At least I can offer you something more comfortable than an on-call room. Kam and I have an apartment on the top floor that we share from time to time, although it’s rare both of us are there together. It’s a convenience, you understand. I’ll take you there, show you around, and by the time you are bathed, there will be food.’

  ‘That sounds great,’ she said, although the words were hesitant—the hesitation explained when she added, ‘But won’t that put you out? Wouldn’t you want to use the apartment yourself?’

  ‘I will stay near my sister and the baby,’ he said, then couldn’t help himself. ‘So you will be perfectly safe.’

  Bright colour rose beneath the pale skin.

  ‘I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it that way. I know you are an honourable man. It’s…’

  And he knew exactly what it was, because now, though both of them were tired and worried, the attraction that from the first had arced through the air between them was still alive and well, stirring, teasing, tantalising and tempting both of them.

  He smiled, then leant forward and kissed her gently on the lips.

  ‘There will be other times to finish that sentence. Other times for the talk you know we have to have, Melissa. But for now a
bath, food and rest. Come.’

  He led her along more corridors, then up in a lift, along another corridor and finally opened a door that led into a spacious living room, a wall of glass at the far side revealing the city spread out beneath them.

  ‘Sit,’ Arun commanded, and Mel was glad to obey. But he returned within minutes, held out his hand to help her to her feet, then led her to a bathroom where a rectangular tub was already half-filled with water. And floating on the top of the water, leaves—perhaps the source of the soft and subtle perfume that permeated the room.

  ‘Towels, soap, lotions and a bathrobe.’

  Arun waved his hand towards a white marble bench where these and more were laid out. Bottles of every shape, beautifully coloured, like precious jewels, lined another, smaller ledge of marble higher up.

  ‘New toothbrush, hairbrush. Anything you can’t find, just press the button by the bath—and, no, it won’t be me who comes to tend you but our maid.’ He shot Mel a grin that would have done the devil proud. ‘Your chaperone.’

  And tired though she was, she had to smile back.

  ‘If she lives here in this apartment, I’m sure she’s well trained to notice nothing.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said, but his smile had faded.

  But no sooner had he shut the door than the conversation was forgotten. Mel stripped off the scrub suit and her undies, thinking she’d throw the lot away. Then, realising she might need the undies when she dressed again later, she soaked them in the washbasin, squirting hair shampoo in with them to make suds.

  Then she turned off the taps and climbed into the bath, feeling the warm water envelop her weary body, feeling the tiredness leach from her skin as she relaxed back, her head against a slightly cushioned end. A bottle of bath gel was near to hand and she soaped herself all over, then relaxed again, letting the water wash the soap away.

  Relaxed…