The Sheikh's Hidden Heir. Оливия Гейтс

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…