by Olivia Gates
After losing all of her family, one after the other, Gwen had thought she’d known all kinds of anguish and desperation. All forms of loss.
But now she knew there was more. There was worse. And there was one injury, one loss, she wouldn’t survive.
If anything happened to Ryan…
“Everything will be fine.”
She chafed at Rose’s reassurance. What she’d reiterated over and over since Fareed had taken Ryan and disappeared into the depths of his staggeringly advanced medical center.
It didn’t work now as it hadn’t worked before. Fareed had come out once, fourteen hours ago, telling them Ryan had been prepared and was already in the O.R. He’d said he’d come out to reassure them as soon as he was done with the surgery.
That had lasted eight hours. Two hours longer than his longest estimate. Every second of the extra time, she’d known a worse hell than any she’d known before.
Guilt had consumed her. She’d sought inferior help initially, hoping it would suffice, save her from making contact with Fareed. What if she’d left it too late? What if she’d be punished for considering anything, no matter how momentous, ahead of Ryan’s health?
Rose hugged her, sensing her thoughts. “Stop it, Gwen. Everything is fine. Fareed’s assistant assured us it is.”
“But he didn’t.”
Fareed hadn’t come out to reassure her as he’d promised! What if that meant he couldn’t face her with what had happened yet?
Rose tsked. “You did see the mass casualty situation that hit the center like a tornado, didn’t you? With his being the chief around here and with God knows how many lives to save, I’m sure putting your mind to rest personally plunged to the bottom of his priorities.”
Logic droned that Rose was right. But hysteria was drowning it out. They wouldn’t let her see Ryan in Recovery or ICU. Fareed’s orders. That was six mutilating hours ago.
Suddenly, Fareed appeared at the other end of the expansive waiting area.
She rose, could barely stand erect as his long strides ate the maddening distance between them. Then out of the blue, he was swamped by people. Other patients’ frantic families.
He stopped his advance, turned to them with calm, patient and what must have been very detailed reassurance because it defused their tension. By the time he at last excused himself with utmost courteousness and resumed his path to her, she was at screaming pitch.
As he stopped before her, those fiery eyes piercing her, she felt he’d trodden on the heart that had crashed at his feet.
“It all went wrong.”
Six
Gwen’s lifeless statement barely scratched the surface of the terror in her heart.
Fareed hadn’t smiled at her. He’d smiled at the others. She could only interpret his intensity as bad news. The worst…
He smiled. Her knees buckled.
“Nothing went wrong.” His smile broadened as he caught her by the waist, stopped her from folding to the ground. “I already told you that—well, I sent Akram to tell you that everything went perfectly right.”
“Oh, you magnificent man, thank you!” Rose charged him, made him relinquish his hold on Gwen and squeezed him in an exuberant hug.
Gwen felt the life force that had felt extracted from her slowly begin to reenter her body. Then he put Rose at arm’s length, smiled down at her. “But I can’t take much credit. Ryan did most of the work. From the pre-op preps to what my team told me felt like ordering his very tissues to assist me, he was the most interactive patient I ever had. I’ve never had a surgery go so smoothly.”
Rose laughed her delight. “That’s our Ryan! But we’ll just pretend that you did have an equal role in this, and you’ll accept our thanks like a good sport.”
“As long as you realize the extent of my contribution, I’m happy to accept.”
Their elation hammered at Gwen, demanding to breach her numbness. But the tidal wave hovered at the periphery of her mind, scared to crash and sweep her fears away.
“So why won’t you let me see him?”
He turned to her, eyes flaring with sympathy. “Because children look heartrending when they’re in ICU and I wanted to spare you the sight.”
“That was why you left me to go insane out here for six hours? Didn’t you realize I’d prefer having my heart rent by seeing him over going mad by not seeing him?”
His eyes widened with her every word, before they narrowed again with self-derision. “My concern was evidently misplaced. Guess I can’t put myself in a mother’s shoes after all.”
Her frustration turned inward, a flame that burned her blood with mortification. “God, no…I didn’t mean to imply that…”
“Don’t apologize for loving Ryan too much. But even after you blasted me for being so blithely insensitive to your needs, I am still unable to meet them. I have to be this infuriating professional and insist on my position. For now. I promise you he’s in perfect condition and that you’ll see him in a few hours.”
“Please, let me see him now. A look is all I want!”
“What you don’t want is the image of him sedated and inert and hooked to tubes and monitors burned into your memory. You may know what you’ll see, but seeing it for real is something totally different. And I refuse to let you inflict another mental scar on yourself. I’ve seen parents suffer debilitating anxiety long after their children are cured, and you’ve suffered enough of that. So even though you probably want to kill me right now, you might want to thank me later.”
“But I don’t want…” She paused, groaned. “Are—are you doing this on purpose?”
He chuckled, winked at Rose who joined him in chuckling. “Of course, I am. One of my PhDs is in distraction. But while it must feel like eternity now, the hours will pass, then I’ll transfer him to a private suite and you’ll be with him from then on.” His logic was putting out the fires of dread and desperation. But the clamoring of her heart wouldn’t subside. He silenced her turmoil. “Until then, how about you ladies join me for a meal? I’ve long passed starving, and knowing you, Gwen, I’m sure we were on that same path together.”
Rose waved her hand. “Oh, you two go ahead. Emad told me to call him as soon as you made an appearance, and to meet him in the center’s restaurant. He promised a meal to top the Cordon Bleu he treated me to in L.A., and I sure want to see how this can be achieved.” Rose hugged her. “See? You should always listen to me. Now listen to me and take care of yourself. You won’t do Ryan any good if you collapse. You’re even allowed to smile without sinning against motherhood.”
“I’ll take care of her.” Fareed took Gwen’s elbow. “I’ll even brave the impossible chore of making her smile.” He tilted his head at her from his prodigious height. “Shall we?”
Gwen didn’t even nod. She could do nothing but stare after Rose, as she walked away with her phone at her ear, and let Fareed steer her wherever he wished.
She registered glimpses of their journey down the halls and corridors spread in reflective granite. She barely noticed the people whose eyes held deference for Fareed and curiosity for her on their way to an elevator straight out of a sci-fi movie. She didn’t feel it move, but when its brushed-steel doors slid open moments later, it was into a room the size of a tennis court, with twenty-foot, floor-to-ceiling windows spanning its arched side.
It was like looking out of a plane, with Al Zaaferah and its skyscrapers sprawling below and into the horizon, lighting up the clear night sky like a network of blazing jewels. She dimly realized they must be in the top floors of the steel-and-glass tower that formed the main portion of the center.
She’d barely recovered from the breathtaking elevation when the opulence and austerity of the place hit her. This must be his office.
His hand burned its mark into her arm as he escorted her across a gleaming hardwood floor covered in what felt like acres of Persian silk carpet to a deepest-green leather couch ensemble around a unique worked-wood centerpiece table.
&n
bsp; When she remained standing, he gave her the gentlest of tugs. She collapsed where he indicated. He stood before her for a long moment, his gaze storming through her. Then his lips spread.
Her heart tried its best to leap out of her throat.
“Even though I know asking your preference in food is an exercise of futility, it seems I like butting my head against a wall. So, again, any favorite cuisine?”
“Anything…with calories.”
She was stunned she’d produced the words. She was only sure she had when he laughed.
Her hand pressed the painful, thudding lump that had replaced her heart. There should be a law against such hazardous behavior.
He phoned in his order of food before he turned his attention back to her. Beside that watchfulness that made her feel he was listening to her thoughts, and that supreme assurance that was integral to him, she saw satisfaction.
From what she knew of him from years of following his career, this was a man who knew his handiwork, never exaggerated his results. He really believed Ryan’s surgery had been successful beyond even what he’d promised her.
And the floodgates of relief finally burst.
She shook under its enormity, and this time when he reached for her, she surrendered to the potent comfort he offered.
Fareed stroked Gwen’s shining head, absorbed her softness and ebbing fear, inhaled her freshness and dissipating distress and told his burning hands that that was as far as it went—for now.
When he’d come out of the O.R., he’d seen no one but her. She’d looked so lost, those eyes that wreaked havoc with his control pleading for reassurance. He’d forced himself to answer the other families first or he would have crushed her in his arms. As it were, he’d been aware of the curious glances when he’d taken her to his private elevator.
Not that he cared. He did his absolute best for all his patients. If he chose to give his personal time and attention afterward to her, it was no one’s business.
But holding her like that, having her burrow into him like a kitten seeking protection, was wrecking his reason. His body had hardened beyond arousal, and that was with her wrapped in those shapeless clothes and only seeking comfort. What effect would she have if she sought him with hunger in her touch and eyes?
He shuddered with expectation. What he’d give to carry her to bed now and to hell with his professional code.
But he’d already strained that code for her. All he could do now was keep his passion under a tight leash until Ryan was no longer in his care. Afterward…
Afterward, he expected an even fiercer impediment than the dictates of his professional honor. His father.
He knew he’d wage a more ferocious war with him than when he’d chosen to go into medicine and not into politics or business.
Not that it mattered. He wasn’t Hesham, young and vulnerable. He would fight anything and anyone, starting with his father, to have her. He’d face the whole world for her.
And he knew that, beyond a doubt, she wanted him as fiercely. That was what fueled her struggle to keep her distance, what she believed the circumstances dictated. But when her worry for her son and his obligations ended, he would plumb the depth of her answering need.
Feeling he was peeling off a layer of skin, he let her go as soon as her tremors subsided. She pulled away at the same instant.
Embarrassment blazed on her cheeks as she slid to the end of the couch. “You must be so sick of soothing frantic relatives.”
“It’s part of the job description.”
He nearly laughed at his exaggeration. She’d seen how he’d dealt with his patients’ relatives. While he’d been courteous and accommodating, he hadn’t dissolved their fears in his embrace.
A knock on the door roused him. “Our calories are here.” A smile wobbled on her lips. He sighed. “Next time, I’ll manage to make that smile last longer than a nanosecond.”
He went to the door, returned with a trolley laden with food and beverages. Everything smelled mouth-watering. But the hunger that rose inside him was for her. He could almost taste the grace and femininity in her every line. His body tightened even more.
He should be exhausted. He was. It made no difference when she was around. He remained alert, unable to waste one moment when he could…experience her. Even when she’d slept on the plane, he’d stayed awake to check on her. She aroused not only his passion but his protectiveness, too, to unreasoning levels.
Bowled over. That was what he was. And to think that before he’d seen her, he’d sighed in pity at those who used that expression. Reveling in his condition, he sat down beside her, started uncovering hot plates.
He whistled. “Seems they got us everything with calories. Are you up to the challenge?”
Fareed’s question distracted her from drooling at the distressing scent. Not the food’s. His.
She could only murmur, “No promises.”
His fire-tinged eyes turned more enigmatic before he turned to serve the food. Her senses reeled with his closeness, her thoughts tangling at his inconsistencies.
Even though he was known to be most accessible professionally, on a personal level, he was considered inapproachable. Yet from her own experience, he was only too approachable, and she…
She had to stop fantasizing about him. He was the one man she should never want, the one man who was off-limits.
But what if he is the one man you can want?
She crushed the insidious voice as she accepted a steaming plate piled with mouth-watering grilled salmon and vegetables, careful not to touch him again. Touching him had infused a dangerous narcotic into her bloodstream. She should be careful not to end up addicted. Or was she already?
Was this how it happened? Inadvertent exposure, moments of surrender to temptation and suddenly you were irrevocably lost.…
“Eat, Gwen, and I’ll reward you. I’ll discuss Ryan’s postoperative period and rehabilitation.”
This brought her back to earth with a thud.
“Yes, please.”
His eyes ignited. She shied away from their heat and her interpretation of it. It had to be her feverish mind superimposing her preposterous cravings on his glances and actions.
She cleared her throat. “Wh-what do you expect?”
“How about a deal?” he countered. “One mouthful a sentence.”
“Oh, all right.” She loaded a fork, forced it into her mouth.
He tutted. “A bigger mouthful won’t get you a longer sentence, and I won’t talk any faster if you choke.”
She swallowed the lump and almost did just that.
“For God’s sake, just tell me!” she spluttered.
“I expect a full recovery.” At her evident frustration with his brevity, his eyebrows rose. “You expected more for that forkful? I already had Akram tell you everything. You just want me to repeat myself to see if I’ll slip up.”
Heat surged to her head. “I realize I’m being obsessive…”
“And I’m totally ribbing you, as you say in the States.” His eyes laughed at her, coaxing her to ease up. “But as a scientist, too, I realize you won’t be satisfied until you have all the details. So let’s start with my findings during surgery.”
Her heart jumped. He understood. That she needed to know what he’d seen with his own eyes, fixed with his own hands. That only specifics would make it all real.
“The defect was long and the tethering was more than I’d hoped. The meninges were also prolapsed. But I corrected it all with a procedure I have been developing. It takes double the time of any other procedure—yes, that’s why I took longer than projected—but it ensures no scarring and no future retethering. The nerve roots were minimally damaged, but with Ryan’s fast growth, and the sites of the tethering, progressive damage would have occurred within the next months. So your persistence couldn’t have been more warranted, and the timing of the surgery couldn’t have proved more critical. Now, with physiotherapy and a four-month course of your drug, Ryan
should regain his legs’ full power and sensation, and I don’t expect there to be any problems with toilet training.”
Tears welled up again as the certainty she’d needed seeped into her bones. “I—I can’t find words to thank you.”
He grimaced. “Then don’t go in search of any.” He tapped her plate with his fork. “Now eat. You need to be stocked up on as many calories as you can to be there for Ryan in the coming time.”
She ended up finishing a three-course meal.
But taking a leaf from his repertoire, she specified a reward in return. Letting her see Ryan as soon as she was done.
He’d finally succumbed, telling her she drove a hard bargain.
She’d been standing for what felt like hours behind the glass partition in pediatric ICU, gowned for the sterile zone, watching Ryan sleeping in a cot that looked like a space pod, her tears streaming. Ones of pure relief.
Even though it drove a hot lance through her heart to see Ryan’s little body hooked to leads and invaded by drips and tubes, she knew one thing beyond a doubt: he was all right.
Fareed had been sharing the poignant vigil in silence.
He finally inhaled. “And Ryan invalidates my worries again. He looks as if he’s sleeping in complete contentment.”
“H-he probably is,” she whispered. “He must feel how much care he’s receiving, must have felt how much you’ve done for him. He might be relieved for the first time in his life now you’ve corrected h-his problem.”
“Everything’s possible, especially with a child as sensitive as Ryan.” He turned her to him, wiped a tear that was trembling on her chin. “Now go say welcome back to your baby.”
She gasped. “Oh, God…really?”
He nodded, his smile a ray of delight illuminating her world.
She streaked into the ICU. He followed at a slower pace.
He stood back patiently, let her fondle and coo to the sedated Ryan until she turned to him with tears mixing with unbridled smiles. Then he checked Ryan, discussed his management with his ICU staff, before escorting her out.