Red-Hot Desert Docs. Carol Marinelli

wouldn’t be making too many demands on you,’ Leila said quickly. ‘I would just feel safer knowing I had a nurse for those first few days at home, and then you could do what you wanted. I would page you if required. You would have your own wing with its own beach and of course you would be well reimbursed.’

      ‘Leila...’ Adele didn’t know what to say.

      She was stunned to be asked and very flattered too.

      And the more she thought about it, the more excited she felt.

      There, in her chest, was something that had been missing for so long—the hope of adventure.

      The thought of Zahir didn’t enter her head. Not at that moment. He would be here, working. This had nothing to do with him.

      It was the thought of a holiday at such an exotic location. Yes, it would be a working holiday perhaps but that suited Adele even better—it didn’t have to be a holiday or a new flat, she could have both.

      Yet hope was dashed even before it took form.

      ‘Ah, Zahir!’

      Adele, who had been perched on the bed, hurriedly stood up as Leila greeted her son. He was dressed in a suit for now. No doubt later he would be wearing scrubs, but for now he was all glossy and freshly showered, and the scent of his cologne as he came over was more heady than a room full of flowers. ‘I was just saying to Leila that I need a private nurse and she had told me that she has some annual leave coming up. I thought—’

      ‘I will arrange your nurse,’ Zahir interrupted, and his voice was terse.

      ‘I don’t need you to arrange anything,’ Leila said. ‘I would like Adele—’

      ‘Adele is a junior emergency nurse. I shall find a surgical nurse who specialises in women’s health to take care of you. In fact, I already have. She will be looking after you when you go back to the hotel.’

      ‘Zahir!’ Leila reprimanded her son.

      ‘It’s fine.’ Adele halted them. Her cheeks were on fire and she was angry and hurt at Zahir’s cutting words. Clearly he didn’t even think her capable of nursing what would by then be a two week post-op patient. ‘It was lovely of you to think of me, Leila...I really do have to go now.’

      She said goodbye and gave a very brief nod to Zahir.

      ‘Zahir,’ his mother admonished once they were alone. ‘You were very rude to speak like that in front of her.’

      ‘I work with Adele.’ He shrugged. ‘I shall find a more suitable nurse. Anyway, perhaps you were the one who was rude. Adele might already have plans.’ He tried not to think of her topless on a beach in France and then he thought of Paul. ‘Maybe she wants to go away with her boyfriend...’

      ‘Rubbish,’ Leila said. ‘She doesn’t have one. In fact...’ She gestured to her locker and those flowers really were following him everywhere because Zahir caught sight of them as Leila continued to speak.

      ‘She had a disastrous date on Friday. She said all she wanted to do was to check her phone. She spends all her spare time taking care of her mother and I want to do something nice for her.’

      Zahir held in an exasperated sigh.

      There was a debt to be paid and his mother had now come up with a way to pay it.

      ‘I shall think of a more suitable way to thank her,’ Zahir said, and then he asked a question. ‘Why do you want Adele?’

      It was a question he had asked himself many times over the past year.

      ‘I find her easy to talk to and she knows about...’ Leila shook her head and lay back on her pillow and closed her eyes. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m going to have a little rest now. I’ve been up since five.’

      The subject was closed.

      So many subjects were closed.

      He could see that she had been crying and Zahir thought about what Adele had said to him in the car: You need to discuss that with your mother.

      He didn’t know how to, though.

      He could speak with grief-stricken parents, he could tell someone, with skill and care, that they did not have long to live.

      Yet this was a conversation that was almost impossible to start. From seven years old he had been warned not to ask questions. Not to upset his mother or anger his father by bringing the subject of his brother up.

      But they weren’t at the palace and things had been left unsaid for far too long.

      ‘I miss him too,’ Zahir said to his mother, and he watched her face crumple. ‘I know I never saw him, but I still think of him and when I go to our desert abode I pray for him each time.’

      As Leila started to cry he let her and then after a while she asked him something.

      ‘Could you pass my bag?’

      She took out her purse and Zahir saw his brother for the first time as his mother spoke. As he finally found out what had happened Zahir wasn’t in doctor mode, or crown prince mode, he was just remembering the sadness and the silence that had returned with his parents to the palace and he looked at the tiny, beautiful reason why.

      ‘Zahir, I had to tell the doctor about Aafaq and Adele was there when I did so. I don’t want to go through it all with another nurse. I am very tearful at the moment. I know that. Mr Oman says it is to be expected after such an operation and it may continue for a few weeks. Maybe the nurse you arranged can care for me at the hotel—’

      ‘You don’t need to be in a hotel,’ Zahir said. ‘Please come back to my home.’

      ‘Your home is in Mamlakat Almas,’ Leila told him. ‘I would prefer to stay in a hotel.’

      Despite being more open than Fatiq, she did not approve of his lifestyle here. Leila did not like the fact that Zahir and Dakan dated when there was an array of brides waiting for them to choose from.

      Staying in a hotel was her protest.

      ‘Please let me have Adele care for me.’

      ‘I’ll think about it,’ he said.

      Adele was all he could think about of late.

      He had been about to head to Admin to tell them he was taking the last fortnight on his contract as leave and that he would not be renewing it.

      The ramifications of a relationship with Adele had long troubled him—his father frowned on his lifestyle here and certainly any serious relationship would be even more frowned upon. It would be dire indeed if anything happened in Mamlakat Almas. He could never choose Adele. The rift it would create between him and his father would be irreparable.

      The King was a stickler for tradition and those traditions did not allow for a woman without a title who had dated before.

      He could well be exiled and unable to fulfil his duty to his country.

      No, he did not want to consider his mother’s request.

      He was trying to get away from Adele.

      Not bring her to his home.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      FOR A MOMENT there Adele had thought that her luck was finally changing.

      You make your own luck, Adele told herself.

      She just didn’t know how.

      It was her second week of nights and she couldn’t wait for them to be done and for her two-week break to commence.

      She was still smarting at Zahir.

      It was six p.m. and there was a staff accreditation that Adele needed to have signed off. She wanted to