SHEIKH'S SURPRISE BABY: A Sheikh Romance (114 page)

“There are too many older adults who are lonely,” she said, “and who have no one to care for them properly. Some of them are ill, and sometimes I am the only person they see who treats them as though they still have a brain and a heart.”

Amir’s gut twisted with a variety of conflicting emotions. Paramount among them was the overwhelming sense that she knew first hand of the truth of her words, and he wished he could make her pain go away. These feelings were unprecedented for him, as unexpected as peace in the Middle East would be. He wished he understood the reasons she called to his spirit as she did.

“My father is a very intelligent man,” he said, “with a sharp tongue, as you will no doubt discover. When he is fully in the present, he will be a challenge.”

He watched her think about the question before she asked it. “And what is he like when he isn’t in the present?”

Amir chose his words carefully. “The challenge is different,” he finally said, after a moment of thought. “Do you have…difficult patients to deal with?”

“If you’re asking whether or not there were violent patients, the answer is most certainly yes.” She paused, and her face twisted into a frown that told him the memories were disturbing. “One of them, a woman, had been systematically abused for a long time before she came to us, and she was always looking for a weapon to defend herself. Sometimes, she managed to steal a steak knife, or a fork, and a couple of us were hurt when she attacked us as we were getting her ready for bed.”

Amir’s gut clenched, and he watched her to see how upset the memory was making her. She smoothed her hands over her upper arms, and he wondered if that was where she had been wounded.

“She was a very large, very strong, very traumatized woman. After the second attack, she was removed to a psychiatric facility.” She sighed heavily, then straightened her shoulders. “I sometimes wondered why they hadn’t placed her there to begin with. She was moody and sullen most of the time.”

“Happily for us, Ms. Downing, you were not severely injured. I admire your courage.”

A wry smile curved her lips. “Perhaps necessity rather than courage,” she murmured. “One has to pay the bills.”

The comment reminded him that he had not had her sign the contract, and he thought the document would keep her occupied and focused on something other than where she was, and what she was traveling in, and all the other reasons she might have for being anxious. He turned to look for Malik and found him just walking down the aisle, preceding the hostess who was pushing the trolley with lunch.

“Ah, Malik, would you hand Ms. Downing the tablet so she can read the contract? I need them to be signed by the time we land in Johar.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he said, bowing slightly and turning to retrieve his tablet while the hostess served lunch.

Amir watched as his new employee helped her daughter cut the sandwich she had been given into bite size pieces, and then affix a bib she pulled from an overnight bag to the little girl’s chest, before saying,

“Okay, baby, remember, the soup is very warm. Blow on it before you eat, okay?”

Simone nodded, and Amir found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her little face. She was her mother’s daughter in every way but the color of her eyes, which were a clear hazel, where her mother’s were a deep brown. Her curls were tight, and fell to her shoulders from a ponytail high on her head. She had long, slender limbs, and her round cheeks were rosy with good health. She had the undisturbed demeanor of a happy child. It was just another sign to him of how well suited his new employee was for the job he had hired her to do. She took excellent care of a small child while managing to hold down a challenging full time job each day. She would care well for his father until his passing.

After lunch, he became embroiled in business and did not look up again until well past dinner, which he had asked to be kept warm for him. The others had eaten, and the little girl was sitting in her mother’s lap, both of them asleep. Something twisted in his chest at the sight, and he wondered what it would be like to have his own child, and what the beautiful young woman across the aisle would look like heavy with child. Putting aside his briefcase, he went over and touched her shoulder lightly. When she opened her eyes, he crouched beside her and said,

“There is a perfectly serviceable bedroom in the rear, Ms. Downing. Please take the little one and get some rest.”

She blushed prettily, and he stood up, taking the sleeping child from her and carrying her in his arms back to the bedroom he used. He knew what she saw when she walked in ahead of him…a richly-appointed bedroom, complete with queen sized bed, white silk sheets and a black and gold duvet. There were more pillows than one man would ever use, and she pushed most of them aside to make room for the child, who had still not stirred in his arms. He laid her down gently, and then said,

“The bathroom is through that door. It is private. I’ll have Malik bring your overnight bag to you. Enjoy your rest.”

She looked into his eyes for a moment, and he saw the heat of interest flare there for a second before she doused it. He felt her withdrawal like a sharp loss of contact, and he wished he could pull her in and hug her. He let her see that he returned her interest, and then he turned away and left the room before he forgot himself. He was still a prince, first and foremost, and he could not allow himself to lose his focus. She was not in his private jet, in his own bedroom, because she was anything to him personally. If she had not had a child with her, he would have let her stay in the reclined seat.

That falsehood took him back to his seat in the main cabin where he immediately called up the last screen he had been working on and tried to re-immerse himself in the documents he had been studying. It was a struggle, and he finally gave up just as Malik walked up to him and said,

“Are you ready for dinner, Your Highness?”

“I think I might as well be, Malik,” he replied, and stood with him, going back to the elegant dining space that doubled as a conference table when he had business meetings aboard.

The hostess served his dinner, while Malik sat across from him answering his questions about the latest border treaty Mubaira had just signed. The terms had been hard won, but the trade would be worth it, as well as providing an assurance of joint support in protecting each other from hostile intrusions. Then their talk turned to the woman asleep with her child in his bed.

“What do we know about her, aside from the few things she has told us?” he asked.

“There don’t seem to be any relatives, my Lord,” Malik began, “and the child’s father has apparently been absent for a significant amount of time as well.”

“So she is truly alone in the world,” Amir murmured to himself.

“Indeed,” Malik replied, eyeing him without further comment.

Amir smiled. He and Amir had forged a relationship which it would be difficult to describe to anyone else. Malik was the youngest brother of his father’s closest friend, a member of the sheikh’s cabinet. He had fallen on hard times when he lost his wife and child, as well as his house, to a fire that ravaged the whole community where he had lived. He had disappeared for over a year, and when his brother found him, he had been at the point of death. He had needed considerable rehabilitation, and a new purpose, if he were to avoid a relapse into the addictions from which his brother had saved him.

Enter Amir, then a sullen and introverted fourteen-year-old, whose mother had died only the year before, and whose father was at a loss as to how to reach his only son. Malik had been hired as his personal assistant — Amir insisted he was too old for a babysitter, so his father had given Malik a new title — and it had been his job to train the boy to be a man, even as his father was training him to be a king. Malik had been the one to hire his personal trainer, to establish his training routines in horse riding, fencing, mixed martial arts, including krav maga, swimming, rugby…anything Amir had evinced even the slightest interest in was something Malik made happen for him. He had been there through Amir’s four years of university in Scotland, and his three years of postgraduate work in England. He had been there for the two failed attempts on his life, back before their borders had been properly secured, and the enemies of the state were looking to give the king a reason to give up his throne.

Now Malik managed his life in every aspect, from the time he woke in the morning until the minute his head touched the pillow. The only things Malik didn’t do for him were wash and feed him. He had even, on occasion, acted as Amir’s valet, helping him make wardrobe decisions, and making sure he was well-turned out for important social and state functions. Amir didn’t quite know what he would do when Malik finally decided that he had had enough. But he knew he could trust the man who was smiling back at him with his life. They had talked about everything over the years, including what Amir ought to do about Amina, and about his father’s looming death.

“Go ahead, Malik,” he said, chuckling. “Have your say. It’s not as though you haven’t been thinking about all you want to say since Ms. Downing first met with us last Friday.”

Malik sat back in his seat, the professional demeanor dropping away, replaced by a warm regard for the younger man sitting across from him.

“She is a worthy young woman,” he began, cutting to the chase. “And she has no recognition of her value or appeal. You could not do any better than her.”

“I will not deny that I have observed, the same as you have, the way she is efficient and unpretentious,” Amir commented.

“I am sure you have also noticed her womanly charms, and her warmth,” Malik added, smirking. “You cannot deny it to me, my Lord. I have been witness to it. And I have never seen you respond to any other woman as you have to this one, not even the ones who throw themselves at you. And definitely not to Amina.”

“Don’t you think we are perhaps getting a bit ahead of ourselves, my friend?” he wondered, his gaze turning inward.

“Your father is not long for this world, my Lord,” Malik reminded him gravely, “and I cannot think how you will manage with Amina as your consort. You must be aware of how fiercely she is pushing her own candidacy? She has brought her parents over for unofficial visits on two occasions, once this past weekend while we have been here. She will not happily release you, unless you cut whatever ties you have made with her immediately.”

Amir sighed. “I have made no ties, nor do I ever wish to.”

“That is good. She cannot call upon a closer relationship, or any hopes established thereby, to bind herself to you. Ms. Downing is ripe for the taking…”

“As long as she is willing,” Amir interrupted him.

Malik tsked impatiently at him. “At this point, my Lord, don’t you think you ought to give in to the more practical aspects of such a partnership, and get her to see the benefits of a connection with you, than trying to wait for love? After all, she may never love you, but she will always be perfect for you.”

“I must disagree with you there,” Amir said seriously. “I will never marry, unless it be for love.”

“Then let us hope you each fall quickly. Your future depends on it.”

Alex wished she could luxuriate in the whirlpool tub that she found in the bathroom, but she was only able to give Simone a quick bath in it, and then hurriedly clean herself before she had to appear for breakfast. She cleaned up as best she could, running her hands over the extra soft, extra large towels one more time before exiting the bathroom and dressing herself and her daughter. The bedroom was as luxurious as the bathroom, and she wondered if she would ever sleep on silk sheets again in her life. She dressed quickly, and put Simone into clean clothes, then spread the bed, repacked the overnight bag, and opened the door in time to see Malik Faisal standing there with his hand upraised, ready to knock.

“Good morning, Mr. Faisal,” she said, smiling brightly, and then colored slightly as she realized that she wasn’t really sure what time it was.

“Good morning to you too, Ms. Downing,” he replied, and then turned his beatific smile on Simone, going down on one knee before the child. “And good morning to you, Miss Parker,” he added.

“Good morning, Mr. Fi…” Simone stumbled over his name. “Mr. Fice.” She looked him in the eye as she shortened his name and fumed, “I can’t say it right.”

Malik Faisal laughed, and said, “Not to worry, little one. Mr. Fice is good enough.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked her, still on his knee.

“Yes, thank you,” she said politely.

Then she looked up at her mother. “Mommy, what’s for breakfast?”

Alex smiled down at her daughter, amused that she had dismissed the man still on his knees in favor of food. She looked at him as he stood up, and said,

“I think Mr. Faisal knows that better than I do.”

“Indeed, Ms. Downing,” he said, “I was just coming to tell you that breakfast is served.”

“Thank you,” she said, following him out into the main cabin, which was already occupied by a man whom she had to do a double take to recognize as Prince Amir.

He was dressed in a dark blue suit, complete with a light blue shirt and dark blue tie, but with a white keffiyeh bound to his head by a dark blue agal. He looked a different man, and yet, when his eyes caught hers, she recognized the spark that still arced between them. It had not been a dream, then, and she would do well to guard her heart. This man was out of her league. He was royalty, and she didn’t wish to jeopardize her job by being at all familiar, or responding to what in an ordinary man might have been read as interest. He was just being polite, and the spark was all in her mind.

His gray eyes darkened as he took note of the way she avoided his gaze, but he said nothing, only stood and greeted her, removing his headgear as he did so. She returned the greeting, and sat where Malik Faisal was holding a chair for her. The prince was seating Simone, helping her to sit in the booster seat so that she would be able to reach her food comfortably.

“I did not know what you would like for breakfast, Ms. Downing,” Malik Faisal said, “so I ordered some continental breakfast items as well as foods more traditional in our culture. Please help yourself to whatever you wish. We will be landing in two hours, so you have a little time to enjoy the repast.”