Secret Sheikh, Secret Baby

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘I did not expect to have to return so soon. Felicity…’ He wasn’t finding this easy—wasn’t finding any of it easy. He stared at her. She looked confused and gorgeous, and he wanted to take her with him, but he couldn’t. She didn’t even know who he was—and more than that he couldn’t inflict it all on her. She wanted romance, flowers, phone calls, Karim reminded himself. She wanted her family and her friends and the freedom in her body that he had just given her. He couldn’t, wouldn’t do it to her. ‘It will be busy when I get home. Things are very different for me there.’

  ‘So that’s it, then?’ Hurt, angry eyes met his, yet there was a dignity to her as she dressed, a proud dignity as she pulled on her clothes. And there was something else about her too—since this morning she had grown up. Before him now stood a proud, strong woman, and Karim knew that this day had played a large part in that.

  Felicity knew it too. Oh, she was hurt, and bitterly disappointed, yet somehow she also felt strong. Of course he must go to his father. Of course they could never be…

  But something beautiful had been taken away too soon, and it was with that sentiment that, instead of storming out, she walked over to him. And Karim held her. He held her in his arms as if he never wanted to let go.

  ‘I will have a car take you home.’

  ‘Karim, I live miles away…’

  ‘You are not getting a train.’ His phone was ringing again, and this time he answered it, talking for a second or two before clicking off. ‘My plane is being prepared.’

  ‘Your plane?’

  He checked himself, determined not to confuse her further. ‘I am sorry. Sometimes my English is confusing. I have to be there soon. I have booked my ticket. I have to leave in half an hour.’

  He didn’t want to go. She knew that. She could feel it in the hard kisses that he showered on her, in the desperate lovemaking that ensued, could even feel it as he took her down to Reception and saw her to a waiting car.

  The journey home was long, but Felicity wanted it to be. She needed to get her head around all that happened in the last twenty-four hours.

  She didn’t even know his surname—yet this man had changed her.

  To anyone else it would sound cheap and sordid—a day of no-strings sex, with someone she would never see again—yet Felicity felt no need to justify to herself what had taken place.

  Especially as, after she had taken the lift to her apartment and rummaged for her keys, when she paused in the middle of the corridor and saw a most exquisite bouquet at her door.

  They must have cost a fortune, soft pink blooms of orchids, and with tears in her eyes Felicity read the note.

  Never forget.

  Karim x

  How could she ever forget? Felicity thought, letting herself into the flat, staring at the blinking red light on the message machine and listening as Noor offered her a position in Zaraq.

  The money was more than she’d been expecting; the only blight was that she had to leave within a week. Felicity knew it couldn’t have been Karim’s doing as, from the time of recording, the message had been left immediately after the information session.

  Her mother’s message urged her to ring the second she was home. Instead she crossed her modest flat and stared out of the window into the cold night sky. She imagined Karim up there, flying back to his sick father, and wondered if they might meet again. Because even if his life was complicated, for Felicity it was actually rather simple. She read the card one more time.

  Never forget.

  Oh, she’d never forget—because every second of their encounter was etched indelibly on her mind. And anyway, Felicity realised, letting the tears spill now, she’d never forget because already she loved him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THERE was no time to dwell!

  Not a single thing she could do about it!

  In the week she’d had left she’d had to fill in paperwork, decline her prior job offer, and attend endless friends and family farewells—as well as reassure her mother and sister that she wasn’t disappearing for ever.

  And even though she knew she’d be back it was so hard leaving.

  Standing in the airport, Felicity hugged her fragile sister close.

  ‘Look after the flat,’ Felicity said, trying to pretend she wasn’t worried about how Georgie would cope living alone.

  ‘Of course I’ll look after it! I’ll be fine—stop worrying.’

  ‘I’m not worried,’ Felicity lied. She wished for the same lucky star that had sent her Karim to shine on her sister, wished Georgie’s problems were as easy to solve and she prayed that Georgie would be okay, that this essential separation wasn’t going to set her back. ‘You stay strong,’ Felicity said.

  ‘I will.’

  ‘You’ll ring as soon as you get there?’ her mother fretted.

  ‘I will,’ Felicity assured her. ‘But, Mum, I won’t be ringing often—and you can’t ring me on my mobile. We can’t afford it.’

  ‘I know,’ she breathed. ‘We’ll be okay, darling.’ Felicity’s heart twisted with pride as her mother did her level best to be strong and brave. ‘And so will you.’

  Felicity hugged her mother and then she walked away, through the security checks and barriers with all the other tense passengers. And as she entered to the boarding lounge, despite her doubts and worries, there was excitement too.

  This was her time. This was her adventure.

  For Felicity it wasn’t about making money and saving for a deposit on a home, it was about clearing debts, about cleaning up the past and moving onto the future. And also, though she tried to curb it, there was a sliver of hope too as she boarded her flight—because, despite his firm words, there was surely a chance she might see Karim again.

  It was a long journey but a comfortable one, even in economy class. Zaraq Air looked after its passengers.

  Just, Felicity thought, as Karim had looked after her that magical night and day.

  Putting on her headphones, Felicity flicked on her little screen, smiling at the tourist information film about Zaraq. She gazed at the images of sandy beaches, deserts and mosques, excitement building. Soon she would really be there…

  It was talking about the royal family now. She listened as the narrator explained about the ancient kingdom, with a royal blood line so pure that its founders had passed on their proud name—each King a true Zaraq. It was riveting. Felicity watched the screen as soldiers marched smartly outside the palace, with the King of Zaraq waving to his subjects from the balcony, his family beside him.

  And then Felicity’s heart stopped.

  Because there, smiling from the seat-back in front of her, dressed in full military uniform and looking stunning, was—as the commentator informed her through her headphones—Sheikh Prince Karim of the Kingdom of Zaraq.

  It was as if her bowels had turned to ice.

  Karim was a prince.

  No wonder he had warned her they could never be together. It wasn’t just miles that separated them, but a heritage that went back thousands of years.

  ‘Your seat belt?’ Felicity blinked as the stewardess reminded her, snapped on her belt, and sat in stunned silence as the plane began its descent.

  Her first glimpse of Zaraq was through disbelieving eyes. She watched the blue Mediterranean ocean give way to yellow sands. The plane circled in a wide flight path, as if to mock her, letting her glimpse all the power behind the man and the vast abyss that separated them.

  Golden sands as far as the eye could see one minute, and then, as the plane dipped to the left, she glimpsed Zaraqua, its ancient buildings huddled together. The cabin lights dimmed, and it seemed wrong somehow to be encased in metal, seeing medieval mosques, colourful markets, from such a modern invention. And then for a second she glimpsed it—the most spectacular building of them all, rising as if from the dust with the ocean as backdrop. What must surely be the palace.

  That was Karim’s home.

  As the tyres hit the tarmac, as the brakes
screamed and Felicity was pinned to her seat, it was nothing to the impact she was feeling as she landed in Karim’s world.

  As she entered the Kingdom of Zaraq.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘LEILA?’ Her back was to him, and Karim watched his ex-mistress jump as he walked into his bedchamber. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Waiting for you.’ She turned and smiled.

  ‘You were not invited.’

  ‘So?’ She pouted. ‘That never worried you before. I heard about the King, and I wanted to be here for you, to give you some comfort during these worrying times.’ She ran a hand over his chest and Karim grabbed it.

  ‘Leave.’

  ‘Karim…’ Her other hand moved to his crotch but Karim blocked it. ‘Leave, Leila. I should not have to say it twice.’

  ‘One last time,’ she pleaded. ‘Make love to me one last time—we were so good together, Karim.’

  And they had been good together—at least Karim had thought so at the time. Yet since Felicity there had been no one, no desire, no need for another woman. And it confused him, because there was desire and need but it was aimed solely at her.

  At Felicity.

  ‘Leave.’ Three times Leila made him say it, and Karim’s voice was black. Her tears didn’t move him; her sobs only enraged him further. Karim summoned his guards to remove this woman from his life.

  He would find another, of that there was no doubt, but the next one had—according to his father—to be his bride.

  The thought made him shudder. His brilliant mind was bored easily, and the thought of waking to the same woman every morning chilled him to the marrow. He could take a mistress—he would probably have to—Karim conceded. And his mind, as it always seemed to these days, flicked to Felicity.

  He was tempted to ring her, to check with Noor if she had accepted the job at the hospital. But, no, it was too dangerous a time right now. Maybe when these next months were over, maybe when there was a suitable bride-to-be in the palace, when things were more stable, he would allow himself that indulgence.

  Maybe, Karim thought, lying back on the bed as Leila’s sobs faded in the distance, he could keep Felicity in London.

  Pleased with himself, liking his idea, for the first time in a hellish day Karim smiled.

  Felicity soon found out the meaning of hitting the ground running. She was met at the airport, as promised, by a fellow English nurse. Relief flooded her as she saw her name on a card being held up by a dark-haired smiling woman who introduced herself as Helen.

  ‘Thank you so much for this…’ Shy, awkward, and still stunned at discovering who Karim really was, Felicity had great difficulty listening to all Helen was saying.

  ‘Don’t worry; you’ll be greeting people yourself in a few months. It’s a great system. After orientation you’ll be buddied up with me for your first few shifts.’

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘Nearly a year,’ Helen said. ‘I’m going home for a visit in a few weeks, and then I’m coming back for another year. I only intended to stay for one, but I love the place.’

  There was so much to take in.

  Her accommodation was fabulous. She had a small apartment on the same floor as Helen’s, and there was a gym and two pools—one for women, one for men. It was bliss, Helen told Felicity as she showed her around the complex, to dip into the pool after a hard day on the ward.

  ‘You work hard while you’re at work, but there’s loads of leisure time too,’ Helen explained. ‘It really is wonderful once you get used to it.’

  And for those first few days it really was just that—wonderful. Helen introduced Felicity to loads of ex-pats—friends waiting to be made—and gradually, as Helen took her to some other haunts, as she discovered the colourful, loud bazaars and blinked at the contrast to the designer boutiques in town, Felicity came to believe this was the best decision she had ever made. So busy was she by day she didn’t have time to stop and think about Karim. She almost forgot she was here in his country, that he was nearby. It was only late at night that her mind wandered.

  A shiver of excitement and fear filled her as she lay in bed. Here, in Karim’s world, the palace was her view from the bedroom window. She ached for him, and some nights actually got up, pulled by strange longing, to stare out of her window and imagined him sleeping.

  Or not.

  Resting her head on the cold window didn’t cool her as she thought of him lying on a bed not so far away. Maybe lying there thinking about her…

  Her orientation days had been informative, but Felicity knew the only way she would really fit in was when she actually started working. She was grateful when Helen knocked on her door early for her first real shift, and walked with her through the hospital grounds and into the hospital. It was immaculate, like the most luxurious private hospital, except this was accessible to all.

  ‘Except the royal wing,’ Helen explained. ‘If you think this is fabulous, you want to go and have a peek up there. It has its own nursing staff. It’s used for royalty and diplomats and the like. The King’s a patient there right now.’ She nudged Felicity’s attention to the tented city beyond the hospital walls. ‘They’re keeping vigil for him—he’s very ill, apparently.’

  ‘What about his sons?’ She couldn’t stop herself from asking, but Helen didn’t turn a hair, just kept on walking. ‘Do you ever see them?’

  ‘Prince Hassan has been visiting daily, while the King is a patient, and there’s always a bit of a stir when he arrives…’

  ‘Isn’t one of them a doctor?’ Oh, so casually she said it—but Helen gave Felicity a small nudge as they walked. ‘Hands off Karim! He’s mine.’ She grinned. ‘Who told you about him?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’ Felicity blushed as pink as her uniform. ‘One of the girls said that one of the princes was a surgeon.’

  ‘He used to be,’ Helen said, ‘and he still does the occasional list. But he doesn’t do much now, so he’s rarely around. He’s too busy being a royal, unfortunately.’

  ‘Unfortunately?’ Felicity checked, her throat tight.

  ‘I miss my fix.’ Helen nudged her again, not noticing that Felicity wasn’t smiling. ‘I miss swooning in the corridor when he stalks past—not that he’d acknowledge me, of course.’

  ‘Because he’s royal?’

  ‘No!’ Helen laughed. ‘Because he’s a surgeon—they’re treated like royalty the world over. Karim fitted in here perfectly. Now, did you bring all your documentation, like I told you?’

  It was to Felicity’s intense relief that Helen changed the subject then. It took her till the middle of the morning to work out that for the first time in her life she’d been jealous!

  Her first shift was spent mostly getting security tags and photocopying paperwork. For safety Helen locked it all up in the ward safe, and gave Felicity the duplicates. There had been a couple of instances of credit card theft on the compound, but security were on to it, Helen assured her.

  Her pale pink uniform was practical and comfortable, and Felicity soon found out that pregnant women were the same the world over. Some were thrilled, others excited, some stunned and a few upset. By the end of her first week she had dealt with them all, and was that day working a shift in antenatal.

  ‘Mainly this clinic deals with ex-pats from the UK or America,’ Helen explained. ‘Dr Habib speaks perfect English and has an excellent reputation, so we tend to do the clinic this way. It gives women from the same background a chance to meet mums in the same situation.’

  Certainly, from the lively chatter in the waiting room, the theory was working well.

  ‘For the first visit we check obs and weight, and do a routine urine and pregnancy test,’ Helen went on as they worked through their busy morning.

  Felicity ticked little boxes, checked dates, and tried to ignore the little voice inside that kept reminding her that her period was due.

  Late, even…

  Felicity glanced at the calendar, trying to tell
herself she was only a teeny bit late, and assuring herself that she was being completely paranoid. Still, by the time lunch came around it was nice to take a break away from the ward.

  ‘I’m on the labour ward tomorrow,’ Felicity said as she and Helen paid for their meals in the large canteen. Though canteen wasn’t the word Felicity would use for it, because it was nothing like the one in her old hospital. The room was spacious and airy, the food was prepared by chefs instead of being delivered via vending machines, and was quite simply delicious. Already Felicity was getting to know a few people, and she smiled to a couple of familiar faces as she and Helen walked over to a table. ‘And then I’m in Theatre the next day.’

  ‘And after that you’re on your own—I bet you can’t wait.’

  ‘I’ve loved being supernumerary, and I love that I haven’t been thrown in at the deep end, but I really am looking forward to working on my own.’

  ‘And delivering your first Zaraquian!’ Helen grinned and drained her cup. ‘Okay, back to it.’

  A hefty nudge in the ribs as they walked out had Felicity looking up, and her face paled as she saw the subject of Helen’s attention. Dressed in a suit, chatting and laughing with a colleague, he was focussed on his conversation and heading towards the surgeons’ lounge. Corridors could feel like very long things at times—because Karim saw her. His eyes frowned, his voice halted mid-conversation—and then normal services were resumed. He swept towards her as if she wasn’t there, completely disregarded her.

  As, of course, any surgeon would a nurse they supposedly hadn’t met.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you he was gorgeous?’ Helen said when they had passed, but Felicity didn’t answer. She had caught a waft of his cologne as he breezed past, and her cheeks burned.

  Karim had very clearly set down the rules. Yes, corridors were very long things. Because, had he chosen to, had he cared even a little about her, there would have been plenty of time for a brief smile.