A Sheikh To Capture Her Heart. Meredith Webber
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Sarah nodded and stood up, wanting to get as far away as possible. Caroline’s words had added a further layer to her pain. Getting compensation for the accident that had taken her husband and unborn child four years after the event had been traumatic to say the least—how could money possibly replace a husband and son?—so her immediate reaction had been to get rid of it as quickly as possible.
And because it was the leisurely pace and overwhelming beauty of this magic island where she’d finally begun to put the broken pieces of herself back together again, wasn’t it right she give something back?
She made her way out of the rear of the hospital, down to the little villa where she stayed when she was here, and tapped on the door of the villa next door to remind her anaesthetist they had an early start in the morning.
Ben was clad in board shorts, his hair ruffled and a vague expression on his face.
‘Did I catch you at a bad moment?’ she asked.
‘Halfway through dismembering a body,’ he replied, and Sarah grinned.
Ben was an excellent anaesthetist and didn’t mind the travel, but apparently he was an even better writer, his sixth murder mystery hitting top-seller lists. It was only a matter of time before he was making enough money from his writing to support himself and she’d have to find a new anaesthetist willing to travel to isolated places in outback Queensland, and to Wildfire in the M’Langi group of islands.
‘We’re doing that thyroidectomy tomorrow. You all set?’ she asked.
He raised his hand in a mocking salute.
‘Ready as ever, ma’am,’ he said, the words telling her he was still lost in his book—one of his characters talking.
But lost though he was at the moment, she knew he’d be fully focussed in the morning.
‘Our patient came in this afternoon, if you want to pop over the hospital tonight to talk to her. I’d say the op will take three to four hours, depending on any complications, and she’s had some complications with her heart so we’ll have to watch her.
Ben nodded.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll be right. I’ve already read up on her and checked with my old boss back in Sydney about the level of drug use. We’ll be fine.’
Ben was about to back away, obviously anxious to get back to what he considered his real work, when he paused, then reached out and touched her cheek.
‘Have you been crying?’ There was suspicion and a touch of anger in his voice, and in his eyes. ‘Did someone upset you?’
Sarah forced a smile onto her lips and fixed it there. She was only too aware of how protective Ben was of her, once taking on the boss of an outback hospital when he’d wanted her to work beyond regulation safe hours.
‘I’m fine,’ she told him, taking his hand from her cheek and giving his fingers a ‘thank you’ squeeze.
‘Well, I hope you are,’ he said, before disappearing back into his villa, from which Sarah could almost hear his computer calling to him.
But the little white lie had made her feel better, so instead of hiding away in her island home, she walked to the top of the cliffs above Sunset Beach to catch the last fiery blast of the sunset.
Except she’d missed it. The soft pinks and mauves and violets, however, were still stunningly beautiful and like a soothing balm to her aching heart.
KEANU DROVE HARRY back to his bure, offering to stay for a while, though Harry could see he was itching to get into the newly refurbished laboratories. As well as Harry’s team working towards clinical trials of an encephalitis vaccine, other scientists were welcome to use the facilities, and Keanu’s passion at the moment—apart from his fiancée, Caroline, and saving the island’s gold mine—was examining the properties of M’Langi tea, a project started by his father many years ago.
‘Are you getting anywhere?’ Harry asked the young doctor.
Keanu shook his head.
‘We know we have fewer encephalitis cases than other South Sea islands and the only difference as far as diet is concerned is this tea we drink.’
Harry nodded.
Keanu’s work fitted with what his team was doing, but the two strands needed to be studied separately.
Keanu pulled up outside the bure and came around to help Harry inside.
But he sat for a moment, wondering if he might not be better off going up to the lab, making himself useful.
Or would he be a nuisance to his ‘minions’, as Sarah Watson had described them?
Of course he would, limping and still in some pain as he was. Besides, meticulous research work was not his thing—he was far too impatient.
Though not in surgery …
‘Thanks, Keanu, I can hop from here,’ he said, waving away the man’s assistance, his traitorous mind thinking of the last person who’d helped him inside the building.
Maybe it was lemons, not vinegar—or something a little tarter …
Limes?
Hobbling up the two steps, his foot still in pain, he shook his head at his stupidity. Sarah had made her feelings clear when she’d let fly about his behaviour, neither could he have failed to feel the contempt in her words.
Deserved contempt?
Probably!
Forget the woman!
Easier said than done.
Women usually lingered pleasantly in his head, small, special moments of past relationships stored neatly away like boxes in a storeroom in his brain.
But this woman …
No way she’d stay in a box!
Perhaps because they hadn’t had a relationship.
They’d been nothing more than ships that had passed in the night!
She’d been pregnant. She obviously had a family—husband and child—or at least the child.
So why the job of flying surgeon?
She’d be home, what, one week in four or five? Hardly a good arrangement for family life.
And